Angel Dom: The curse of Chemical X
by Winter's Frost
Summary: Many years before the PPG were born; John Utonium, Fred Dom, Nick Morlon and Adam Smith embarked on an adventure to find a meteorite that crashed in the desert. However the expedition quickly transforms into a nightmare that pushes every members to the ve
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ANGEL DOM: The curse of chemical x

Part one

Author's note

1)This story investigates the discovery of chemical x, and a few theories on how the Powerpuffs got their names. I decided to have chemical x discovered in a meteorite because it helps explain one of Buttercup's attacks in the sequel.

2)This story doesn't actually contain the Powerpuff girls as it focuses on John Utonium when he was a student at university, so if you came here expecting to read about Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles, I'm afraid they're not in it.

3) John Utonium hasn't earned his title of Professor yet just if you're wondering.

4) This wasn't supposed to be in parts but it grew so large that I had no choice but to separate it. I realise that it is very long so I ask you to be patient when reading it. I cut it down as much as I could but I'm afraid I couldn't separate it any further. This is Part one. To read the rest please visit Part two.

5) Powerpuff girls are property of Cartoon Network. 

6) My eternal gratitude and supply of Cherry bakewells to **Nicole Sabatti** for being such a fantastic friend. This fan fiction would have never been completed without her help. So thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!! Zoy!

&**********************************************************************************************&

Three days had passed.

It was with a massive enforcement of will power that John Utonium held back the words he had wanted to release since this ludicrous journey began with energy he frankly didn't have or could afford to spend on such a task. He longed to say the words and the only thing stopping him from doing so was the small but significant fact that it would do nothing more than aggravate his fellow students rather than help them find a way out of the desert.

At first, as he reflected in the punishing heat of the desert sun, it seemed such a good idea, as most ideas tend to do. With its promise of adventure and exotic climbs it was just impossible for any student, never mind ones practically bursting with enthusiasm for such a topic, to say no to and John was definitely one of the enthusiastic type. 

A small collection of friends had opted to join John on the journey to investigate the rumour that comet pieces had fallen somewhere in the Toman desert. They were reputedly from far outside of the solar system and held potential high acclaim for anyone who found them.

Money hadn't been too much of a problem for any of them and before any one truly realised what or why, they were onboard the plane set for the desert. It was only then that John began having doubts about their hastily booked journey (the term planned is grossly misinforming) and decided to express these views to his friends.

Adam Smith was the first one who was approached by the fretting student simply because he had the misfortune to be sat directly opposite him. He seemed annoyed that John had spoken to him, seeming to interrupt some unspoken plan. He was a mysterious person, more of an acquaintance than a friend. A very burly man with arm muscles the size of tree trunks and a ruggedly handsome face to boot. Adam was the one who had originally thought of the idea and had ensured that all members who had even showed a small interest succeeded in going. He could be stubborn sometimes, domineering too as was proved when he refused to listen to a single of John's anxieties, claiming it to be last minute jitters and therefore, in his eyes, making his comments seem nothing more than pessimistic ramblings.

His protests having fallen on deaf ears, he turned to Nick, possibly the exact opposite of Adam in every way. He was short and lightly corpulent with a full head of shoulder length ginger hair, with a personality that seemed to a change every five minutes according to both situation and company. It was a joke between them that Nick probably had more personalities than he did clothes, which, sadly, didn't say much considering his entire wardrobe seemed to consist of nothing more than an old pair of trainers, black leather trousers and a tough "Indiana Jones" style shirt, opened at the chest in a mistaken belief that women would care. They were hardly the type of clothes that were suited to desert terrain and it was with great reluctance that he had brought a desert made outfit. Just because they were opposites though didn't mean they didn't have anything in common. Nick's reaction to John mirrored exactly that of Adams.

The last member of the group was his best friend out of the three. Fred Dom, his roommate and child-hood friend was a very down to Earth man. He too was modestly handsome and John had always admired him, not just for his quick wit and popularity (something John was secretly jealous about) but for his devastating intelligence and brutally calculating methods. Fred could convince a fish that it didn't need water to survive or reduce even the most hard core of people to tears with just a few lines of poetry. John thought that if anyone were to listen to his doubts, Fred would be the one to do so.

However, John was wrong. Fred, like the others had merely disregarded his concerns as nothing more than nerves before melting back in front of the in flight movie, then becoming lost to John for the rest of the flight.

And now they were here. Their 'luxurious holiday' had quickly transformed into a walking nightmare as the four men, all too confident in their own abilities had managed to get lost in the featureless, barren deserted wasteland that was the Toman desert. If that wasn't enough the comet piece, the object of their desire was no where to be found. Now they were lost in a ceaseless sea of sand with a rapidly diminishing water and food supply with no idea where they were going or where they had been.

"I told you so," he muttered to himself just to get those burning words off the tip of his tongue and to rid him self of his portion of the blame. His words were badly muffled by the thick scarf that covered all but his eyes. The rest of his body was wrapped in a similar fashion in an article of clothing that they had initially brought as a drunken prank on their first night of arrival. John could have swore they had brought some other items, the empty space in his wallet where money should have occupied told him as much, but he couldn't seem to find any extra objects and he was far too drunk to remember what it had been he had brought. Odd then that one drunken moment was the only true initiative any of the students, who were all considered geniuses of some sort in their own right, had shown when it came to the preparations of such a perilous journey.

John slowly faded back to harsh reality. He looked at the sky above him, an ungodly mix of violent reds and oranges that clashed together. The sun pounded them, punishing them with a fierce intensity that John had trouble believing. The wind, again warm so as not to provide the lost explorers with any relief from the torturous pounding of the desert sun, blew the sand over its brother like waves in an ocean. The sand lapped at the feet as it washed over the surface of the desert, masking and silently erasing any footprints the explorers had left just seconds after they had done so. With both ground and sky cast in an orange-gold it offered nothing more than a monotonous view except for the occasional withered cactus and the unmistakable black blur of the vultures sweeping expectantly over head.

His friends weren't coping well. Like him they too were completely adorned from head to toe in the same suit as he to prevent the harsh abrasive sand from grating away their very skin. The only thing that was left uncovered was their eyes but even that sight was denied to the student as he lagged behind the others.

Physically, it was obvious that Nick was suffering more than the rest. His shoulders were slumped and his feet dragged leaving a constant trail unlike the others brief footprints, which in the last few miles (had it been miles, he could not tell in this featureless hell) had metamorphosed into a dotted trail.

John felt for the student for he was unsure if his lazy friend had even bothered to walk around the block on a pleasant day back home never mind get lost in what appeared to be an endless wasteland. A mistake they were all gravely paying for now. In fact Adam had taken Nick's water canister away from him after he drank almost all his water but ten minutes into their trip. They had been forced to travel back to town to get some more water and water skins, resulting in the students missing out on being able to travel with a qualified guide. Even now Adam guarded the water just in case he was to try something again.

Both himself and Fred had managed to keep their own so far whilst Adam had maintained what slowly but surely became a torturous pace. Adam had reluctantly slowed down but only because he feared getting swallowed by the desert.

Mentally they were all recognising the effects. Adam who had started the trip with constant reinforcements and an odd kind word when they lagged behind had now ceased, deciding that they weren't worth the energy. The combination of loneliness and to what seemed hopeless had worn Adam down. His civility towards the other three, Nick especially had been lost in the tides of the sand. Not only that, but the dream of the meteorite piece that would rocket him to a previously unexplored scientific high had become more and more distant as each footstep was taken. The loss of his dream seemed to effect Adam badly; as if he needed the dream more than the air he breathed and the water that was now, like his dream, almost depleted.

Nick who usually complained fervently when unhappy, as he undoubtedly was at this time, had died down after only a short time, partially because Adam had given him more than enough warnings on the subject as he blamed Nick for their current predicament. Even Fred with his fierce optimism had been reduced to silence except for when he was forced to jump to Nick's aid to defend him against Adam. As for himself, John fought hard to keep that flame of hope that they would escape burning in his heart, however the very effort of doing so was nothing less than exhausting and he, too, had resigned to what seemed like certain doom.

John wasn't at all surprised when Nick collapsed ahead of him, the pots and pans he carried on his back clattering against each other, hitting the sand with a dull thud. Fred gasped in shock, a sign that maybe his misplaced optimism wasn't as dead as he himself had thought.

John knew that someone at some point would collapse and it was no surprise to him that Nick had been the first. To him it was like some morbid milestone, another nail in the coffin.

Adam stopped when he heard the pots falling and delivered what could only be a look of sheer irritation. John merely continued at his same pace, unusually apathetic, until he reached a small lump in the sand. He couldn't help but collapse in exhaustion onto his posterior. Adam decided to join him, taking time to dispense another scowl towards the kneeling pair as he did so.

Fred tended to Nick, gave him a bit of his own water so not to bother Adam and then joined the other two where Nick couldn't hear them.

He stood tall and interchanged a mildly pleading gaze from both John to Adam.

"This is ridiculous," he said loudly to get himself heard over the weak, howling wind. "We need to take a break."

"Break?" Adam asked sceptically as if the mere thought was a crime punishable by death. His blue eyes shimmered with a concentrated hatred at Fred, clearly indicating how he felt on the matter.

"We can take a break when we get home. Until then, get up and get moving!"

Nick looked towards them, a confused expression on his face. Fred signalled to him to stay where he was much to Adam's annoyance.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Chill, Adam."

Under any other circumstances and if John, Adam, Nick and Fred hadn't been participants in this story then they may have laughed. However, their humour had left eroded away like a tiny pebble that had to fight hard against the onslaught of water in a raging river.

Adam became more enraged than ever, his brows furrowed deeply and his fists clenched tightly by his sides. His arms twitched with the effort of holding back an actual physical attack.

Meanwhile Nick had managed to hobble over towards them although he left his things sprawled in the sand. He fell with a thud, gasping in exhaustion. Fred patted Nick on the back reassuringly before pulling down his scarf to give a warm smile. Fred then returned his concentration onto the slumped forms of the other members although Adam stubbornly refused to acknowledge his weariness as if in doing so he held an advantage over the others.

"It's almost night time," Fred said, pointing to the sky with a gloved hand to show the flaming sun settling on the horizon and the first appearance of a few weak stars. "We all agreed that we would try and walk as much as we could during nightfall because it was easier. But let's get a little sleep now, that way we'll be more energised for tomorrow and we can still at least track for the other half of tonight. It would be more comfortable."

"He's got a point," John admitted.

When it became apparent that they may be stuck in the desert for a long time, they had discussed on what the best course of action was to take. Many agreed that walking during night time was much easier because the blistering heat was replaced by a bitter cold, which was much easier to defend against. They had tried sleeping during the day only to find that it was damn near impossible. They decided to compromise and sleep during the evenings and for half the night, then to start travelling again.

Adam wasn't happy and he wasn't afraid to show it.

"He'll kill us all," he said, gesturing towards at the wheezing mass that was Nick, cleverly if not childishly ignoring the point just made. The man couldn't hear him, promptly falling to sleep sometime during Fred's proposal.

"He's guzzled up most of our water on his own leaving us with nothing."

"We'll be out of this desert soon," Fred said using Adam's own tactic against him and not taking the invitation into another argument about Nick's incompetence. John looked away from them both, his eyes wondering over the sandy terrain. Although he didn't say so, he didn't share in Fred's optimism.

"Don't you think that, John?" Adam continued, dragging Utonium in whether he liked it or not.

"We're not here to score points against each other, Adam," he scolded giving his most solid glare ever to the seething volcano. "We need to figure out how to get out of here and no amount of childish bickering or bickering of any sort will accomplish that."

He smiled secretly to himself, rather proud of that answer. Fred winked at him discretely.

"You're right," Fred admitted as he lowered himself onto his back so he was facing the sky. They all listened to the sweeping wind for a moment. 

"I'm staying here," Fred said finally, obviously wrapping up his side of the argument. "Nick is too. You can continue if you'd like, but it's your decision. This is ours."

In his laid back position it was difficult for the two remaining members to decipher who exactly he was referring to and John knew he had done it deliberately. John knew, as Fred did, that challenging the desert on your own was suicide. Not even the courageous Adam would dare take it on. Of course Fred was making the assumption that John wanted to stay and rest which was exactly what he wanted to do.

Adam looked back and forth at both Fred and John as he ran the problem over in his mind. Accepting defeat but not admitting it, Adam replied haughtily. "Well, we're leaving in a couple of hours!"

"That's the plan," muttered Fred sleepily.

"It's about time we had one of those," John added, further undermining their self-proclaimed leader. It was Adams idea to go deeper into the desert and to walk aimlessly around in circles until they found someone. How could someone that smart be that stupid?

Then again, they had little choice. What else could they have done? Sit and wait for death to find them? At least this way they could say that they tried.

John flopped backward landing on the velvety smooth sand. Instantly his eyelids drew to a close and just seconds later he was fast asleep.

&*******************************************************************************************&

The stars were in full blossom that night, sparkling with their full intensity that John found simply amazing. Back home in Townsville it was rather difficult to see the stars as the constant cloud cover over the city always hindered the mystical light. Out here though they shone like sparkling gems, glittering coldly in the freezing night.

Unsure as to why, John Utonium raised one quivering hand towards the sky, reaching for one particularly bright nebula in the distance. He rested his hand under it so it looked like the thing floated in the palm of his hand. 

In his other hand lay a golden watch that had been bruised and battered over the long years since its creation. He was looking at the weak sparkling object now in a hope that it would revive his optimism and faith that they would, at some indiscernible point, return home. The watch itself had thousands of complicated and simple memories that far excelled the metal frame. It was an old Victorian style watch that had been handed down from father to son for generations. His father gave it to him only moments before his death and it had been one of the few possessions, if not the only one that was worth anything to him in this plane. He valued it more than his own life because it represented all the good times he had as a child and represented the unbreakable bond between father and son. Even though his father was rather negligent, the passing down on the watch had been one memory he truly treasured. It held tradition for him. Now he was using it to restore that faith he had lost by filling his head with past memories of his beloved father. The memories were easy enough to recall but finding a way out of the desert was something else entirely.

Besides him Fred yawned sleepily as he awoke from his slumber. He rubbed some sand out of his eyes, then blinked several times when he realised that John was awake.

Fred crawled over towards his friend and with effort sat himself up using his elbows as support. John smiled weakly as he lowered his hand. Had it been Nick or Adam he would have been embarrassed but Fred was his best friend and he felt nothing but comfortable with him.

Fred smiled weakly; his unruly black hair was showing now and was coated in a thick layer of sand. They both laughed a little at the comedy of it when sand trickled slowly out of the tangled mass when Fred tried to sort it into some sort of order.

For a moment they both remained silent as they both gazed up towards the stars. It truly was a beautiful view but it filled him with a heavy misery. They were going to die here.

"What are you going to do when you leave Uni?" Fred asked, his eyes resting on the great black expanse and the twinkling blue, red, white and green stars.

So encapsulated in the stars it took John a little while to answer.

"I was thinking of becoming a scientist."

"Well duh," Fred said cheerfully. "Where you gonna go?"

John blinked, not really having thought of it. 

"I guess I'll stay in Townsville. I found a nice little place on the outskirts, beautiful it is, only two bedrooms. It's the old Johnson place but with my wage packet I can't afford much more."

"Tell me about it," Fred said before pulling himself directly alongside his friends, no longer resting on his elbows as before. John flicked a piece of hair out of his eyes with a finger that was raining dead skin. His lips felt cracked deprived of water as they had been over the past few days.

"The pub I work in isn't all that great, but it gets me by if you know what I mean."

John nodded. Jobs were hard to find in Townsville, as it was a slowly developing city. Many of the jobs were filled with students and although John also followed this faithful trend, he only did it to get a little income. For him both compulsory education and jobs had been something he hadn't greatly enjoyed.

He had been that way since he was young according to his parents. He wasn't just happy with knowing what occurred, he wanted to know why and went to extreme lengths to find out. He remembered that many pre-school teachers had complained that the boy was too inquisitive and he had got into trouble for it time and time again. 

Both primary school and secondary school had also been severely reprimanding towards those who wanted to experiment, preferring to stick to the "course syllabus". Every time he had asked them a question which bordered out side of their holy doctrine of study the teachers had told him "_It's not part of the syllabus,"_ as if that explained everything. To him those teachers were intolerable. In many lights he saw them as droning robots, cursed to repeat the same drivel for the rest of the tiring lives. Not him. He wanted to know more, his thirst for knowledge far exceeded that of the teacher's dampening influence. Needless to say the fiery child was more than glad to be out of the claustrophobic and choking confines of those dreaded walls.

Compared to them, Townsville University was a haven of enlightenment where experimenting was actually encouraged rather than frowned upon. The time had passed so quickly for the budding scientist. It was with a sad heart that he realised that the final exams were drawing near.

Yet John Utonium was looking forward to meddling in the lab he was intending to build in that quiet suburban house so he could experiment freely without someone else controlling the means of expression.

"Do you ever think about having kids?"

John choked at that remark, fully awakening him from his reverie. He coughed, looking at Fred in disbelief. "Don't you think we're a little young to be thinking about children?"

Fred looked at him, a faint sparkle in his eyes. "It's not that," Fred insisted, shaking his head allowing more sand to fall from its black imprisonment of hair. He sighed, trying to find the words to explain it to his friend.

"I have a niece named Laura. I've always hated kids, you know I have." 

John nodded. He distinctly remembered when one child had stolen a valuable piece of coursework when he was invited to give a talk at the Primary school. This figure had then proceeded to destroy two months of research with just one swipe. Fred hadn't made a copy of the information either so he was forced to do the experiment again.

"Laura is different. She's so cute. I truly miss her."

"Hey, " John scolded, his eyes flashing angrily at his friend. "Don't you act like you're not going to see her again."

He settled down a little, calming his voice as he did so. "Sorry, Fred, I didn't mean to yell…"

"It's alright," Fred conceded, giving a swift piece sign. "We're all under a lot of stress."

John smiled as he remembered how angry Fred had been at the kid who had destroyed his coursework and had acted to every other kid since. Some of them had run off to their parents he had been so mean to them.

" Not a care in the world. Innocent, sweet and loveable. Apparently she's the perfect little girl." 

John scoffed. "And what makes her so special?"

"You tell me, John," Fred replied. "If you were going to have a little girl, how would you like her to be?"

"I have no control over how she turns out so there is no point in speculating," John replied coolly.

Fred grinned when he realised that he must have hit a nerve of some sort. Unlike Fred, John had always liked children, especially girls. He tended to distrust little boys after more than a few had played some pranks on him. Girls were different in his eyes although Fred was sure that John could easily cope with either. He had a way with kids.

"It's not like you can choose how your girl will turn out now, is it?"

"Laura is really sweet," Fred continued, deliberately ignoring John. "She has a delightful innocence about her that makes her just so unique compared to other kids. She's so caring too."

John caved in. "I'd want my child to be independent but caring. I wouldn't want them to be completely dependent on me for support. I'd like them to be able to handle some very adult situations and they'd have to be bright, possibly a leader of some sort." He tried to sum up his desire in one word. "Responsible."

"Ah," Fred said, pointing to Nick. "Someone else is up."

Nick stirred in his slumber before finally opening his eyes. He groggily picked himself up from the ground and made his way, as Fred had done only a little earlier, towards the others. However Nick hadn't bothered to remove the thin sleeping bag and he looked just like a caterpillar as he slowly wriggled his way up to the other two.

He stopped when he got there and then resumed a more common position, crossing his legs. Nick looked worried as he checked the two faces more clearly then was visibly relieved when he noticed Adam wasn't up.

"We were talking about what would make the perfect little girls," Fred told him when he fully came round. "If you had a little girl, how would you like her to be?"

Nick blinked, confused at such an odd question. "Uh, what?" he asked to make sure he wasn't hearing things.

"Fred's reminiscing about his niece, and he thinks she's perfect."

"You mean, Laura? Heck she is a sweet little thing isn't she?"

Fred nodded vigorously, obviously happy that someone had complimented his niece.

"Yeah," Nick said dreamily, "that would be the perfect girl for me. No retorts or criticisms. Just pure unconditional love."

"So you're both against me," John said with mock hysteria. They laughed as one, and when they had finished they looked at each other in bewilderment as if to confirm that they HAD actually LAUGHED

"I didn't say that Laura was MY version of a perfect little girl. My version is probably the exact opposite."

"But you said she was…"

"She is often perceived as the perfect girl, John, but as you say they do need some independence." At this point Fred's voice grew icily cold. "Someone attacked Laura."

"What?!" Nick exclaimed. "How can someone attack such a sweet girl?"

"How could they not?" Fred countered obviously upset. "She's an easy victim. Poor thing won't even go out anymore."

"That's terrible," John admitted.

"I want a little fighter as my girl. Someone who wasn't afraid to meet a challenge head on, that wasn't worried about having to meet up to social standards and stuck to her own."

"Wouldn't that make her difficult to control?" 

Fred waved clenched a fist in front of his face determinedly. "Exactly. I like a challenge and if you treat them right, they love you anyway. I want someone who isn't afraid to use violence if they have to."

"And what if they use violence to solve every single little thing?" John asked, his eyebrows raised. 

"I'd teach her to be a tough little fighter and to use her fighting skills responsibility. Of course she'd have to be smart as she'd be related to me."

Nick shook his head unbelieving. "I'd thought you'd want a little goody two shoes as your kid, Fred. Ya know? The type that has perfect grades and attendance and the one every looks to for advice."

"Nah," Fred said. "My father was a kung fu fighter and I inherited his dragon spirit. I guess I'd like to see my little girl as strong as he was. At one point I was going to become a martial artist but I was no good at it. I guess I'm just the violent type."

"Although I don't agree with your phrasing," John admitted looking at Nick, "I wouldn't mind the goody-goody type. You wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt by thieves as you would with Nicks choice as she would be too smart for that, and you wouldn't have to struggle to keep the loose cannon in charge as with Fred's."

"Ah ha!" Nick scolded, coming up with a downside as he usually did. "What about the ego? And the pressure? If you expect her to be all perfect then she may do something rash to achieve the standards that you set for her."

"And goody two shoes are so irritating," added Fred. "They tell on everyone and they act like the world isn't good enough for them."

"Traitor," muttered John although it was obvious that he didn't mean it.

Nick leant forward then, his back cracking as he did so. He tied his sleeping bag around his legs in a very lose knot to try and protect himself from the bitter cold air.

"What'd ya call her?" Nick asked as he looked up at the sky.

"You mean my little martial artist?" Fred replied hands behind his head as he lay down on the sand. "I don't know. Whatever name I give her, she'll hate it. They always do."

"I've always liked the name Blossom," John admitted his cheeks reddening considerably. He scrunched up his eyes and raised his hand to ward off the criticisms and comments that he was sure they would make at his expense. However nothing came from either.

"I'd need a cute name for a cute kid," Nick thought aloud, scratching the hair on his head to encourage some thought. "Bubbles."

That was why Nick, at least, hadn't leapt at the chance to criticise him as his name was even more peculiar. John remained politely silent realising that it would be incredibly unjust to laugh at such a name. Besides, the more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. "Bubbles," he said to himself and a smile spread across his face as he said it.

Fred pouted at the other two. "I can't think of one."

John tutted. "You have to give her a name. You can't call her Thingy!"

"Thingy," Fred teased, pretending to seriously consider the option.

"Fred!"

"Why don't you name her after a flower?" Nick suggested.

"A flower?" Fred asked, incredulous. "She'd kill me."

"Rose?" Nick offered.

Fred stuck two fingers in his mouth and made a gagging noise.

Suddenly the others exploded into suggestions, firing them from their mouths like bullets from a gun.

"Alright, how about Tulip?"

"Fox glove?"

"Nettle?"

"Ivy?"

"Nettle?"

"Jasmine?"

"Hey," he cried, lifting his hand to cease the senseless gibbering. "I'd prefer Thingy to that."

"Got it!" John cried triumphantly. "Nettle!"

"You said that one."

"Did I?" He grinned sheepishly.

Fred looked at them in turn, a look of amusement on all of their faces. The hopelessness of their situation had faded away from their talk. It was like their friendship had rekindled their hope of escape, a faith reawakened.

"Just to shut you two up, I'm going to call her after a flower that you two don't react to."

An expectant silence filled the air. Fred opened and closed his mouth, deliberately teasing the impatient pair.

"Buttercup," he said finally then proceeded to explain. "My dad loved them. Whenever he used to lose a fight he would visit a buttercup field. It was strange really. Nothing could restore his confidence like those flowers could."

Fred had loved his father dearly, and had seen him as more than a regular dad as other children did. His faith in his father burned with a fiery intensity. Fred had always tried to mimic him, attempting to become just like his father but it was obvious that they were two very different people. Fred was far better in matters of the mind, his father in that of physical strength. However all of his animal cunning had been derived from that sole sun burning in an otherwise empty sky. Everyone else be damned, the only person Fred would ever get close to worshipping was his father.

He looked up then, his eyes only partially open.

"You two don't react to Buttercups."

It had been a frightening and worrying experience when Fred had tried that experiment on both Nick and John. The peppy pupil had burst out of a side classroom into the corridor, knocking away several classmates as he did so before violently ramming the yellow flower under the unsuspecting chins of his friends. He watched the flower intently, proceeding to then point and laugh at the fact that the buttercup made no impression upon them before exploding down the corridor to find some new victims. Nick and John had exchanged worried glances, wondering if their friend had had too much coffee that morning.

"My dad loved Buttercups. Now I come to think of it, that was his symbol. The field they grew on was badly undernourished and we thought nothing could grow there, but the buttercups flourished." He smiled wistfully. "My Buttercup could take on anyone, just like my dad."

"So," John started, ticking each name off on his right hand. "Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup."

"Yeah!"

"Right on!"

They all laughed, sharing a high five between the three of them, that due to their tired and uncoordinated state looked as if they were doing nothing more than swatting air. They laughed at how stupid they must have looked, fuelled by the desire to laugh again. They continued this way until their sides hurt, and tears of joy sprang from their eyes. To them this time was like the sun finally shining through the boiling, thick black clouds that had been over their head since they'd begun. A tiny ray of hope that perhaps things weren't as bad as they may have thought.

"What do you idiots think you are doing?"

The clouds rolled in over head once more, and that tiny ray of light vanished. Adam stood before them, hands on hips, foot tapping lightly against the sand allowing small clouds to escape from underneath his boot. His featured were twisted ferociously and his left eyebrow twitched.

Nick whimpered a little as he sunk down into the layers of protection that was his sleeping bag from the raging tempest. He looked petrified of Adam and with good cause considering most of Adam's anger had been vented on the vulnerable student so far on the journey although Fred had recently been exposed.

Fred sat up from the sand, titled his head and asked, "what?"

"We should be walking not slacking!" Adam yelled, veins popping out of his forehead and neck. "This isn't Kindergarten!"

"Shame," Fred retorted. "We could have found our way out of there."

"I don't know," Nick bravely continued, shocking both John and Adam. "Especially with those child proof locks and everything." His voice quivered in fear and almost trailed off inaudibly when Adam glared daggers at him. 

Fred beamed at him making Adam then deliver the same glare of death to him. Fred was digging himself deeper and deeper into his grave. Adam wasn't used to people fighting back and it infuriated him beyond the point of sanity. John was dragged in by default.

"Get up now!" Adam seethed slowly, his eyes burning like a firebrand on each member. "We go now! That meteorite piece is out there and when I find it, I'm going to become famous so you'd better get moving!"

"And where are we going to go, Adam, hmmm?" Fred questioned, his voice heavily mocking. "Forwards? Backwards? Side to side? Perhaps we could loop the loop?"

Whatever thread was holding Adam back from the precipice had just shed another layer, making it weaker than before.

John stole a quick glimpse of Adam as he scowled behind Fred, frustratingly silent. The image sliced itself into his mind before he could stop it. Images of the four men standing in the black void nothing but a wide chasm ahead of them. Adam was currently looking out over the precipice, teetering precariously on the edge, looking down, a cruel smirk on his face. 

It was only a matter of time before Adam fell.

The rest of them would follow soon after. In his vision, he saw Nick, Fred and himself waiting patiently in a queue behind Adam for their turn to arrive. When Adam sank silently into the darkness, the next one stepped up.

It was all a question of when.

"Why don't you pick a direction?!" He snapped

"Alright," Fred accepted, rising to the challenge. He scrutinised the surrounding terrain. "That way."

He was pointing to where a large sand hill raised in the distance.

"It's as good as anything else I suppose," John sighed, realising that options were few and far between.

With very little else to say to each other, the four travellers picked up their earlier discarded items where they had been unceremoniously dumped then reluctantly began walking again.

&*****************************************************************************************&

They had walked all night but to no avail.

The following day had proceeded like that of funeral except without the black clothes and the burden of a coffin. Not one word had been exchanged between any member of the group until midday and then it was only because the heat was getting to Adam and making him edgy as usual. They all wore the gravest of expressions as the desert continued to roll ahead of them, showing absolutely no sign of ending any time soon. 

A few tumbleweeds had rolled past them now, and they all interpreted it as a sign that they were more lost than ever, rather than the implication that it may have held. That they were getting to a thinner part of the desert where it was possible for more plant life to grow. But that was ridiculous. Tumbleweed was renowned for the way that it travelled over vast distances. They could have been in the centre of the desert for all he knew.

Another one bobbed past moments later. John followed it with his gaze; envious at the way the thing sped over the surface of the sand and, more importantly, didn't feel the intensified heat of the burning ball of fire in the sky.

It was almost with a saddened cry that he watched the tumble weed disappearing. It had provided him with something to focus on, to pour all his attention in an attempt to lessen the lightly nauseous feeling and light head that he had felt since that morning. He presumed that the others felt the same, especially Nick who had collapsed twice in that one day. Even Adam had stumbled a few times, even if he did try to conceal it from the others.

The day had proceeded just like the others. With prolonged periods of silences followed by torrential arguments. It was drawing near night time when the most childish argument yet brewed between Fred and Adam. John believed that they didn't have the energy to even think of anything mature to say, proceeding to say the first thing to came to mind. It was sad really, John thought as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. If they had put as much energy into walking as they did arguing then they probably would have been out of the desert days ago. Fred was still his best friend, but his insistence to provoke arguments with Adam, even if they were defending Nick, was beginning to get on his nerves. 

As usual it started as a simple cross comment aimed, traditionally, at Nick, with Fred jumping to his defence. All John could remember about the argument was that Nick had drunk a little water, and it went on from there. He had blanked the rest of it out, not particularly caring anymore for the pointless bickering. 

But the loss of the tumbleweed had meant that John was left desperate for anything to do, and as sad and pathetic as he deemed it, listening into the argument was one thing that would occupy his thoughts.

__

Well, he told himself, _at least you're not participating._

"I don't understand you one bit!" Fred cried, his voice choking with exasperation. "Can't you just leave Nick alone?"

Adam laughed no longer bothering to even look Fred in the eye. They walked next to each other, firing insults, volleying them back and forth until someone gave way before starting the tedious process all over again.

"You're an insult to the science profession!" He fired, missing the last volley. "You are pathetic."

"Me, me!" Fred repeated angrily. "What have you ever done?!"

"Will you please stop arguing?" Nick pleaded.

"NO!"

Nick shrank back.

"You pollute the profession with your incompetence."

"And what makes you think I'm so incompetent!" Fred fired back. Wrong question, John thought to himself. That was practically inviting Adam to slander his name further. Adam took the invitation greedily.

"You got lost in the desert!" 

"So did you!"

It was only a matter of time before they pulled out their tongues at each other. In many ways it reminded him of the story corner at his primary school where children fought over the beanbag and the cookie with the most chocolate chips in it. However even that childish squabbling was a professional debate compared to this as at least that achieved something, i.e. the cookie or chair. Their arguments were completely pointless, succeeding in doing nothing more than getting everyone very, very annoyed.

Yet John allowed them to continue out of a morbid curiosity. He was tired as acting as the referee and besides, Nick had taken up the position, which, John realised was a lot like trying to put out a fire with gasoline.

"You're all pathetic, all three of you! What grade were you predicted at university?"

"1,2" Fred spat back and he cringed when Adam laughed at him once more.

"Well, I'm predicted a 1,1"

"So is John!" 

Great, now it looked as if he would be dragged in by default.

Fred suddenly realised what he said, and he clamped his hands over his mouth. "Sorry John."

John grunted. Fred then turned to Adam. "Look, let's just concentrate on getting home," he said, the closest he would get to apologising. At times John thought that Fred was actually incapable of saying the word "sorry".

Adam snorted a sign that he too had tired off the argument. 

"Can we stop off for a little break?" Nick pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

"I think we could all use a rest," John agreed. "Maybe a little food wouldn't go amiss."

Nick brightened considerably at the prospect of food. He smacked his lips together happily. 

"Fine. Let's eat," Adam reluctantly agreed.

"Yeah. I'm starved," Fred said, he too happy at the idea of eating something no matter how grotesque he would normally consider it.

&***************************************************************************************&

"We're dead," Nick stated plainly.

He prodded at the pathetic mound of empty food wrappers ahead of him, searching in vain for anything edible that they may have previously missed. All backpacks had been emptied now, at Adam's insistence, to form the pitiful formation that was the now depleted supply of food. Nick continued to run his fingers over the wrappers, whimpering as he did so, mourning the loss. 

Adam sat on top of his backpack, looking down at the others from his lofty position.

"You're the one who ate it all," he growled, anger evident in his voice as he looked from one to another coldly, but reserved his coldest stare especially for Nick.

"Hey," Fred defended, once again jumping to Nick's defence. "We all ate what we brought. You can't blame this on him."

"I just did," Adam responded. "He's the one who made us miss the guide."

"You didn't want to go with them anyway," John contributed, eyeing Adam coolly as he swept up the wrappers. Just because they were in the desert didn't mean they could still litter. "You said that they were, and I quote 'a bunch of cretins who wouldn't know a comet if it hit them in the face'."

Adam opened his mouth as if to respond, but his usual witty retort died on the tip of his tongue. With nothing to say, Adam snorted, resuming his mightier than thou position.

"They did look kind of boring," Nick thought aloud, gently agreeing with Adam for fear of the repercussions. "Probably wouldn't have been much fun."

"And this is?" Adam snapped, gesticulating from left to right to indicate the desert. "We've no water, no food, and more importantly no meteor piece!"

"Why is it so important to you?" 

That was the worst possible thing anyone could have said to the erratic scientist. He looked at Fred coldly as if he had been personally insulted by the question.

Although he didn't say as much, John had to admit that he was curious regarding Adam's original motivation towards the trip and for agreeing to go with people he hardly even knew. But whenever he dared to ask, Adam would ignore him or change the subject, sparing a little time to fire a warning glance at his direction.

"Yeah," Nick confirmed. "Every scientist, expert or not, is probably here to search for that meteorite. We can always borrow a sample from them."

It was at this point in the proceedings that something palpably changed about Adam. The question Nick had asked seemed to douse the raging fire inside of him. His features were no longer in that scowl he had worn since day one, but much calmer, almost serene. The discomfort in the atmosphere plummeted.

"I want to be a scientist," he whispered forcing the others to strain to hear his words. It almost seemed as if someone else entirely was speaking as the others, even at the start of the journey, were not used to hearing his words without that harshness that they had become accustomed to.

The others looked on baffled, surprised by Adam's sudden mood swing. Determined not to let the chance go to waste, John tried to prompt another to speak, finding his own resources empty. Fred mouthed a soft "what", his eyes staring blankly at his friend. After a few more frantic gestures, Fred said something.

"We all do," he said awkwardly. Adam shook his head, his blond bangles draping in front of his eyes.

"I want to become THE scientist. I'm gonna become the best damn one this world has ever seen!" A fire, much friendlier than his usual one, burnt deep inside of Adam, fuelled no longer by desperation but by the hope of a dream that he had lost to the darkness a long time ago.

"I'll be recognised world over. People will love me for my discoveries. I'll win the Nobel peace prize!"

No one dared to interrupt as Adam continued to open his heart, revealing untold truths about himself. They knew that this was a rare occurrence and shouldn't be thwarted unless absolutely necessary. This was the one chance they had to throw Adam a rope of sanity, and John was not going to miss this time.

Adam's voice grew silent and hushed. "I'll be loved," he finished.

Fred and John exchanged worried glances at this last statement; uncomfortable with the information just divulged. John's scientific mind though was whirling. It was such an odd thing to say to them, to reveal so passionately after days of silence. Of course every one had dreams that they wished to fulfil but none had been so devout to them before. John explored every possibility of the last few minutes' confessions in his mind, twisting, bending, and shaping the data into all sorts of theories. With people's dreams, it was always important to read between the lines.

The realisation struck him like lightning striking the tallest oak.

"Do…" John hesitated. The others stared, befuddled forcing him to continue. "Do, you have a family Adam?"

John grimaced when Adam glared at him, that hate returning ten fold. But John realised that it wasn't directed at him this time or any other member of the group but to someone who wasn't present.

His family.

Adam contemplated the answer. "Yes."

"Any siblings?" nothing. "A sister?" No reaction. "A…brother?"

There was a noticeable change in his demeanour. His face fell with a saddened anger and his eyes became downcast.

"Yes."

"What's his name?"

"Harold."

Nick looked up from the sand that he had been studying, eyes sparkling with recognition. "Harold Smith?" He asked, daring to interrupt. "Brown hair, baldish, glasses? Kinda tall?" Adam nodded. "HE'S your brother?"

"My older," Adam confessed.

Fred shook his head lightly. "I don't have any siblings myself," he interrupted shamelessly, not caring when John scowled at him. "You don't do you John? Nick does though."

Nick cringed visibly. He stuck his tongue out of his mouth, gagging at the thought. "Uh, you had to remind me of that didn't you? I hate the little brat, running around screaming all night and ruining my sleep."

"What about you Adam?" John prompted gently, adopting a much friendlier tone. "Me and Fred don't know about the joy of siblings."

"There is NO joy," Nick ensured them, impassioned.

Adam looked up then, his eyes twinkling with a pain that can only be obtained after years of exposure to cruel, empty neglect.

"Nick's right," Adam acceded, shocking everyone but John with the agreement. "There is No joy in having siblings. You always get compared to them, no," he amended, voice rising in barely concealed anger, " you are judged by them, as if you are nothing but a clone expected to live up to their standards. Life as a sibling is nothing more than a score sheet against the other one."

"You got that right," Nick agreed. "My parents are always comparing me and Danny as if we are one and the same."

Fred laughed. "Isn't your brother five years old?"

"Yep," Nick agreed, laughing himself. " I'm compared to someone with the mental age of a five year old."

They both laughed; even Adam allowed a little giggle. It didn't last though; the depression shoved its way back into his heart like a bulldozer through a crumbling building.

"I always thought Harold to be really dull," Nick confessed. He raised his hands in self-defence when he realised what he had just said. "Sorry, I, um..."

"It's alright," Adam promised causing John to exhale in relief. "He is."

"Is he the one who's engaged?" Fred asked.

"To Mary Anne, yeah."

"Isn't she pregnant?"

"Second baby's due this month."

"Oh."

John leant forward, mentally scribbling page after page of notes. 

"Didn't she have a kid 4 years ago?"

And then Adam proceeded to go of on a tangent to the current topic, breaking away, fearful perhaps that if he didn't do it now, he never would.

"My parents wanted me to settle down, to take whatever job happened to pass me by and have a family, just like him." His voice was so heavy with contempt, with hatred, but mostly, sadness.

Fred meanwhile had begun fiddling with his scarf noisily and the others turned to him in annoyance. Taking the hint he quickly threw the scarf on the ground then plopped his head onto it, giving a thumbs up as a sign that they could continue.

John waited with baited breath; each second of silence stabbed him like a thousand knives.

"I've always loved the sciences," Adam explained. John exhaled. "I promised myself that I would achieve something that he couldn't and science was my best bet. I'll show them all who's the better sibling," he growled fiercely. "Harold may be able to tolerate being in a dead end job but I certainly can't."

"You want to be able to do something that your brother can't," Nick translated just in case the others hadn't had the same thought.

Adam clenched his fists. He made a simple promise that the tone of his voice told that he would die before he let that dream slip away.

"I'll show them."

To John it was all beginning to make sense and he couldn't help but feel sympathetic to the love starved man. Although he had had no siblings, he wasn't aware Nick had any either, the pain of neglect was something that he was all to familiar with. Like him his parents greatly enjoyed the sciences. They spent days at a time tinkling in their laboratory, too diligent in their pursuits to notice the young boy who whimpered for affection. He presumed siblings had it twice as bad as they had to fight for their share of love and attention, determined to get a little recognition for being who they were and not for maybe, what they did or didn't achieve. John swore to himself that if he ever had kids, he would treat them all equally. No bias, no neglect, nothing but love and respect for each. 

This had no bearing on Adam but he was a classic product of someone who had been denied the simple pleasures of human compassion, and John felt nauseous at the idea of his children turning out like that.

Adam yawned tiredly. He turned to his backpack, pulling out a small sleeping bag. He snapped it open. He stood.

"I'm going to find that meteorite," he promised and then disappeared in the darkness, off to sleep before the next tiring part of their journey.

It wasn't until Adam's soft snoring could be heard that anyone spoke and even then it was hushed and conspiratorial. 

"I didn't know you had a brother, Nick?"

To his surprise, Nick laughed and Fred joined in, sharing a joke that John had either missed or wasn't privy too. Nick smacked his knee lightly. A huge smile had spread across his face.

"I don't."

"What? Then why…"

"We wanted to get Adam to open up," Fred explained, grinning as he turned to his perplexed friend. "Someone he could relate to so he'd feel more comfortable."

Nick continued. "Nice one on the five year old gig."

Fred grinned from ear to ear. "Gotta throw in a joke."

John shook his head, amazed. This wasn't the first time that he'd underestimated their intelligence and he doubted it would be the last. Somehow they had realised what he was trying to pry out of Adam, and then had successfully managed to communicate a plan of action without any words being exchanged. The amazing part was that they'd created a fictional character so believable that even John, a long time friend of Nick, had believed in it. He didn't wish to criticise his friend but Nick had been unnaturally perceptive that day. He wasn't even aware he was capable of showing such insight.

"Why Nick? No offence but you're hardly Adam's favourite person."

"Exactly. Now they have something in common and Adam should stop being so mean and start being nice."

Another foolish mistake on John's part again he cursed himself for not making the connection earlier. It was simple psychology that practically everyone knew, well, everyone except him anyway.

"Did you plan this?"

"Nope."

Even more wondrous. The conversation that had finally succeeded in opening Adam's heart had not been one of the vigorously planned ones that he and the others attempted, but was brought about by a random spark of spontaneity.

"You two amaze me…"

John confessed and they all grinned like Cheshire cats.

&*****************************************************************************************&

There were only a small amount of differences between the desert at night and that of day but they were much more prolific than the usual, there's more light at day and it's warmer. The temperature at night wasn't just colder, but was hatefully cold. The sizzling heat of the day was dragged away to leave nothing but an icy blanket over the barren. The temperature occupied two very opposite ends of the spectrum in an attempt to break the spirit with its gradually oscillating heat. They had unanimously agreed days ago that despite that their bodies trembled and their teeth clattered, the night made a welcomed change from the heat of the day.

Perhaps John's favourite change though was not the unburdening of the punishing heat, but the change in scenery. The moon washed the land with white light changing the sand from the boring gold to a more pleasant silver. It made a beautiful contrast from the black sky above them and the twinkling variation of stars above. No longer were his sensitive eyes exposed to the radiating sun and the boiling, clashing sky or the burning gold sand. It was also much easier to tell where they were going.

The wind continued to whisper untold truths, lulling them to a point half between sleep and the waking world. Nothing else could be heard as not one word had been shared between them since their departure.

Fred had led the way. This in itself was not surprising, the fact that Adam had let him was. Maybe they really had reached him.

Fred reached the top of the elevation. He froze in mid step as the others stumbled docilely to a halt.

Nick and John turned to one another, nodded, then scrambled up the bank until it no longer hid the view beyond.

"What's up gu…oh my God."

In the silver sand ahead of them, something shimmered weakly, a dark blotch against the landscape. The enigmatic object lay in the centre of a circle as if the thing had been dropped from a great height. 

All men advanced as if the black object called to them with its siren's song. Fred in particular seemed taken a back, stumbling more quickly towards it as if it held a secret message especially for him. Adam tried to pull him back but wasn't quick enough.

Fred suddenly broke into a sprint, arriving at the object before the others. His mouth fell agape and his eyes became the size of saucers as he lazily gazed at the object.

The rock was no bigger than a football, half buried by the sand. Fred dropped to his knees then began digging the rest of the comet out of the sand. He lifted it into the air, hands running smoothly over its chipped surface.

"Is…it…?"

John arrived first; face set in awe at the item ahead of him.

"A meteorite piece, our goal, we found it."

"You see!" Fred cried suddenly, leaping into the air with ecstasy, hugging the comet so strongly that it may have broken. "This wasn't a waste of time!"

"Alright!" John cried, punching a fist into the air.

"What…"Adam muttered.

"Is that its actual colour? Maybe it burnt up on entry," Nick interrupted as he tried to grab the comet from Fred's vice like grip. It took some effort to retrieve it from the over excited scientist but eventually Nick managed to prise the artefact away and as soon as he did he began polishing the surface fiercely with his scarf.

John and Fred hopped with anticipation; their hands stuck together in a praying motion and their eyes a blaze with resurrected enthusiasm. Adam looked on dumbstruck, eyes scanning over the meteorite.

"Woah," Nick breathed, his hand slipping away from the rock.

A constellation was trapped as tiny dots, all different colours and sizes, glimmered inside. The rock almost appeared to be translucent and a very mirror image of the sky above them.

"It's beautiful."

"Can I?" John queried.

He slowly reached towards the meteorite, his fingers coming to rest on its cool surface. He allowed himself to take a quick breath as he explored the surface area and then rapped his knuckles against it.

The very comet itself seemed to hum with life, not the dead rock that they had been expecting but a different one all together.

"It's hollow."

Meanwhile Fred had shakily pulled off his backpack and was now tossing every item out of it as he searched for his equipment. He squeaked in delight as he pulled out a small box. Nick was doing the same thing except his didn't contain scientific equipment such as Fred's but a long manually powered drill.

"Do we have to?" John complained, eyeing the drill as if it was solely responsible for everything that had ever gone wrong in his life.

Nick looked up. "If we want to know what's inside then yes."

"Shouldn't we wait until we get a proper laboratory?"

"No," came the simple answer.

Again the meteorite piece exchanged hands until Fred was once again in possession. Nick leant over the rock and gingerly began drilling into the centre. John noticed Adam wince when he began drilling into the rock.

It was meeting with some resistance from the meteorite forcing Nick to become more aggressive sending both Fred and John into frenzy when they felt that he was going too far.

Nick grunted; his face set in determination, the midnight chippings circling as he continued to bore inside.

Suddenly the drill plummeted all the way, all resistance lost. Nick smiled smugly as he carefully withdrew the drill, a thick liquid now coating it.

"Uh, guys? I think we'll need a beaker."

The black liquid was trickling in several rivulets down the side of the meteorite piece. The others quickly grabbed a container and caught as much of it as possible. The liquid was like a runny tar as it slopped into the beakers.

Adam hesitantly joined them.

"Grab a beaker Adam," Fred said monotonously as he concentrated on gathering the strange liquid. Both beakers rapidly became full and Fred was forced to grab another. The giant agreed, grabbing not a beaker but an empty water container that hung on his waste. A small "A" was engraved on the lid. 

And so they all set to work, capturing the enigmatic liquid before it was lost in the sand. Nick took the liberty of taking a small sample now that Adam was helping gather the liquid. Fred and John muttered excitedly as each container reached its filling point whilst Adam looked at the strange black liquid as if it were a god. John noticed that he was shaking and that his eyes had become haunted.

"This appears to be highly toxic," Nick said as he slipped another slide under the microscope "It has such a strange molecular structure."

"Let me look, " John demanded, grabbing the microscope before Nick could whisk it away now that the liquid had become depleted.

Adam looked on, whimpering slightly.

Then he began crying.

No one noticed at first, all too involved in the enigma in front of them then their team mate, but the sobs rose in volume and eventually John had noticed, even if it was more out of a petulance that his concentration was being disturbed than actual concern. Fred seemed almost horrified at Adam's reaction.

The tears were streaming down his face silently, glistening in the moonlight like crystals. John looked on, sorrowfully.

"Look," he started, his voice pleading as he tried to find the cause of the sudden outburst. "Do you remember why we came on this journey?"

Adam looked up through tear stricken eyes. Maybe the discovery of the comet had allowed him to vent those locked up feelings that could no longer be imprisoned. The realisation of his dream had overwhelmed Adam with emotions. The one thing that had kept him going during those cold nights as a child was now securely in his grasp.

When it became clear that no one was going to answer, John took on the burden himself. "We came here to find the fabled meteorite piece, and we found it. Not only that, but we're the only ones who have."

"How do we know the other guys didn't find one themselves?" Adam countered, his voice swinging back to anger once more but the hope he held was unmistakable if not in his voice but in his gaze, written in stone in his body language.

"Look at it, Adam," he said, gesturing towards the rock. "It's unlike anything documented."

"It's a new discovery," Fred confirmed, smiling weakly as he spoke. "I…have never… heard of anyone finding a meteorite that matches this description before."

"We came here to find something that would propel us to the greatest heights of the scientific spectrum, and we found it. Not you, or Fred, but all of us combined. We've done that."

"We're stuck in the desert though. What's the point of having an award winning meteorite piece when you're dead."

John didn't understand Adam's change of mood but accounted it to Adam's protective system. He had to make sure that his dream had been realised, not wanting to build his hope on shaky foundations for fear that it would be demolished. Accepting the dream would rocket Adam to a previously unexplored euphoric state and if he was presumptuous about the discovery only to find that it wasn't what he hoped, Adam, John knew, wouldn't survive the fall back to earth.

John shook his head. "We'll get out of this desert if we work as a team," he said gently, daring to take a few steps towards Adam. The giant looked down at him, all tears now dried up and his usual 'cheerful' self returned. His face sank into a scowl, angry with himself for releasing his emotions to the others and angry with them for watching.

"Nick," John called, turning to look at their kneeling friend. He looked up from the slide he was studying. "What have you got?"

"It is unique," Nick confirmed smiling cheerfully. "As you say, I think it is a new specimen and as a new specimen," Nick continued excitedly, "we get to name it!"

The others looked at him in confusion. Of course as they had discovered the strange chemical, assuming that it was a new discovery, they had the honour of naming it themselves. John knew that this was another potential for an argument, and decided to voice this thought. "Well, we can't name it after us," John said deliberately, knowing that they would fight over who got the recognition for its discovery. "We can hardly call it Dom Smith Utonium Morlon came we?"

"You're right," Fred conceded, as he gingerly sat down on the sand.

Adam sat down himself, deciding to only listen in to each suggestion given and criticise when he felt it appropriate. John rolled his eyes towards heaven; upset that Adam was obviously refusing to participate in what could be the greatest scientific discovery of all time just to be petit towards his comrades. Why was he so afraid to reach out to the comet? Was his dream that brittle?

In many ways this debate mirrored that of the earlier one except this time they weren't naming something that they felt unique to them but something they had all found together as a team.

Nick looked up from the microscope. "This really is strange," he mused as he looked back into the microscope, fingers twiddling with the zoom on the side.

"The molecular structure is one of kind. It's so unique." He paused, then offered a soft laugh. "Why don't we call it something mysterious?"

"You mean like Enigma?" John offered. Adam snorted in disgust at such a grotesque suggestion.

Fred sighed in disdain. "What exactly is it?"

"A chemical from what I can determine," Nick told them, once again briefly looking up from the microscope.

"Chemical something…" Fred mused.

"All names for chemicals are so boring and unoriginal," Adam snorted, offering no more as an explanation. Between the lines lay the heavy message of 'we're gonna give it a good name or else' and was his attempt at a contribution to the discussion, no matter how feeble.

"I always liked magnesium," Nick said in an injured tone.

"I like the idea of going with something mysterious. After all, we hardly found it in ordinary circumstances. You must admit that finding this rock in this vast desert when we're completely lost is hardly normal," John thought aloud.

"I guess so," Fred conceded.

"Whatever," Adam muttered bitterly, the closest he would come to agreeing.

"So?" Nick prompted, glaring at them each in turn, "what do you consider mysterious?"

"How about," John paused, rummaging through the ideas in his mind. One name sprang to mind something mysterious yet short, catchy and memorable. "Chemical x?"

"Chemical x?" Nick repeated. " I like it."

"The letter x carries the implication of mystery. It doesn't explain anything about the meteor piece and, um, I can't think of anything else," he finished lamely.

"Chemical x," Nick repeated. "Chemical x, chemical x…"

"Who cares about the stupid name?" Adam asked them, that fire returning. "Is it unique? Will it make me famous? What does it do?"

Nick grinned sheepishly. "I'm not really certain. All I can deduce from this is that it's highly toxic, perhaps lethal to living cells."

"Maybe it's a virus?" John contemplated.

"A virus?" Adam asked, all bitterness and contempt vanishing from his voice. A strange sadistic grin grew on his face but was quickly swept away.

John resisted the urge to shudder; Adam's reaction so far had been nothing less than disturbing. First he had become zombified, the next he was crying like a schoolgirl, then he's back to his usually critical self. John wrote a mental note to discuss it with the others later.

"Great, an alien virus. I don't think anyone has ever found one of those!"

"I can't really say much about it right now. As John said we really need a bigger lab to check this out fully and that means…"

"…getting out of the desert, I know."

The four fell into silence, the sweeping wind being the only sound they could hear.

"How do we do that?"

"Answers on a post card please," Fred mocked, then cringed as he laughed at his own joke.

John suddenly slapped himself on his forehead waking the others from their own unspoken thoughts. "We've been such idiots!" He cried in frustration. The answer to all their problems had evaded him so far but now he had figured it out it was if it was in front of him the whole time. And they dared to call themselves scientists…

"I could have told you that," Adam spoke icily, not missing a chance to turn John's words against him.

"It's so obvious!" He cried again. "It's been staring us in the face the whole time!"

"Well?" Nick asked as he carefully slipped both microscope and slide into a safely packaged container. "Don't hold out on us Einstein."

John began pacing back and forth excitedly. He looked up at the sky, mumbling to himself as he followed an unseen path. He circled the three men, getting different reactions from each. Nick was too busy inspecting the meteorite to be particularly bothered about whatever John was doing. Adam tried to pretend that he didn't care whilst Fred watched out of curiosity.

"Well leader boy? What is it?" Fred asked, shifting onto another side to make himself more comfortable.

John ignored him as he mumbled an assortment of calculations, occasionally cursing himself for his stupidity before moving onto a new direction.

"John's lost it," Adam shouted, his voice filling the otherwise silent void. He was rewarded with evil glares from both Nick and Fred.

"It's so simple!"

"What is!?!" Adam screeched reaching the end of a very short fuse.

John blinked at them, as if he had forgotten that the others were even present. 

"Um, the stars," he said hesitantly, pointing upwards. "Don't you remember Follow the northern star?"

"You follow the northern star to go north, John," Nick said slowly, not wanting to find a hole in this particular proposal but felt that he had to. "How's that going to help? What if we're right at the bottom of the desert and if we continue south we'll be out in a couple of hours?"

"That's not true," John jabbered. "We decide to head east when we first set off?"

"Only to find ourselves here." Interrupted Nick.

"The northern star. The Toman desert. All we have to do is follow the northern star and we'll be home in no time."

"Why?"

Realising that he wasn't making any sense, John tried to be more concise. "If we know which way is North, we know which way is east, west and south."

Fred twigged onto Johns meanings and made a little euphoric "oh" sound. "We entered from the west," Fred breathed.

"Yep. So if we head west, we know for sure that we're going to reach the Town we started in."

The others mimicked his earlier behaviour by also smacking themselves on the foreheads.

"And we think we're so smart," Fred admonished.

Adam remained silent. John reasoned this behaviour as him not wanting to build his hopes on shaky foundations, afraid that they would be cruelly demolished later. 

"And when we get back with this meteorite we'll be famous!!" Nick cried happily, eyes almost glittering with excitement.

Adam let out a great yawn. He looked at them sleepily. "I'm gonna hit the hay."

"I'd like to investigate this meteorite a little more," Nick confessed and Fred and John nodded. Adam shrugged, then in a frighteningly cheerful voice he declared. "Well don't stay up too late. We've got a star to follow."

And once again he disappeared into the darkness of the night.

This time John wasted no time. 

&******************************************************************************&

Thank you for reading part one.


	2. Default Chapter Title

****

ANGEL DOM: The curse of chemical x

Part Two

Author's note

1) This story investigates the discovery of chemical x, and a few theories on how the Powerpuffs got their names. I decided to have chemical x discovered in a meteorite because it helps explain one of Buttercup's attacks in the sequel.

2) This story doesn't actually contain the Powerpuff girls as it focuses on John Utonium when he was a student at university, so if you came here expecting to read about Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles, I'm afraid they're not in it.

3) John Utonium hasn't earned his title of Professor yet just if you're wondering.

4) I cut this down into four parts after more than a few people (not all reviewed) thought it was a little too long. I realised that it is still quite large but it can not be cut down any further. I'm afraid this is as far as this story will ever be cut down by. I ask you to please be patient when reading it. This is Part two of four.

5) Powerpuff girls are property of Cartoon Network. 

6) My eternal gratitude and supply of Cherry bakewells to **Nicole Sabatti** for being such a fantastic friend. This fan fiction would have never been completed without her help. So thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!! Zoy!

&*********************************************************************************************&

"I'm worried about Adam," John confessed as he swirled the newly named chemical around in the beaker, eyes focusing on a point that no one else but himself could see.

Nick looked up from the microscope reluctantly, an annoyed expression on his face. "What? Adam's fine now after last night. He's been nicer to Fred and me as we planned. How is that worrying?"

Fred cracked his neck besides them. He squirmed a little on the sand, unable to catch the sleep he so richly desired. "Yeah. Adam's cooled down now and all it took was a little fib to get him to open up."

"It's not that," John insisted desperately. "When we found the meteorite he was staring at it as if it were a god of some sort and we he finally snapped out of whatever reverie he was in, he was being nasty again."

"Old habits die hard," Fred explained but John refused to listen. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"You have a bad feeling about everything John," Fred sniped a little harder than he had meant to.

"Don't you guys get it? How can he switch from one emotion to the next so quickly? First he's happy, then dumbstruck, and then mean within a matter of seconds of finding that!" He pointed towards the rock accusingly. Nick jumped in its way to defend it from John's accusations but couldn't help but consider it, his eyes resting sadly on the meteorite.

"Adam wanted to find a rock. We found a rock, end of story."

"No it isn't!"

How could he explain it to his companions that Adam's reaction was frighteningly psychotic? John had deduced from the argument earlier that day that Adam didn't hold them in very high respect when it came to their chosen career as he had clearly vented on Fred. Now he had to share possibly the most important discovery in the history of mankind with a group of people he considered weren't good enough to even spit on. 

"You're being paranoid," Fred chided, as if reading John's mind. "Fair enough I don't trust him. Heck, I don't even like the guy but since last night he's been a lot easier to deal with."

"I don't like him either," Nick concurred, looking at John with his one available eye. He returned his gaze to the slide seconds later but made sure that the meteorite was still in one piece and more importantly in his possession. Fred stretched his legs causing another unseen bone to crack at his movements.

"The guy is obviously a psycho," Fred told them, staring at the two in a silent challenge to contradict him. No one did.

"He lost it before he even came to the desert. He must have been hanging on to sanity by a very loose thread. The desert just clinched it."

"Psycho. Fantastic. We're stuck in a desert with a psycho that no one even likes."

"Did you ever wonder why he asked us if we wanted to go on this trip rather than one of his friends?"

John ran the thought over in his mind and couldn't help but say "I've been wondering more about why we accepted."

Fred shook his head. "No, John. Think about it. That guy asks three strangers he's never met before if they want to go on a holiday with him. Don't you usually ask your mates?"

"Maybe his friends didn't want to come," Nick offered as he scribbled down some information about the chemical with one hand, and played with the zoom with the other.

"Or?" Fred prompted.

"Or…" John started, working it out as he spoke. "He didn't…have any friends to ask."

"Exactly."

That would make sense, John thought. The neglect he received from his family must have triggered it off, made Adam reluctant to reach out and ask for help. He had learnt all his social skills from people who didn't even have time to say hello to him, never mind care. That meant that he had no social skills what so ever, and despite all his efforts to gain friends, none had ever come to him.

John couldn't help but feel sorry for him, the angered worry extinguished in the light of this new discovery. It was a viscous circle that Adam was in, he couldn't reach out to anyone because he didn't know how and therefore more and more people brushed past him, heightening the isolation for the loved starved child. Adam must not have had many friends, and those he did had either left him or not been worthy of the title.

"You saying that Adam's all bitter because no one likes him and that he conveys this onto others which makes even more people dislike him?" Nick asked, summarising John's thought in a quick sentence. He dared to be mean himself, something that Nick hardly ever did. "Well if he treats them like that then he doesn't deserve to have any friends."

John sighed heavily, filling the void in front of him with his woes. "It's not his fault. I don't think he knows how. I pity him." He looked up at the sky then. "I can't wait to get out of this desert," he sighed changing the subject.

This brightened them up considerably, especially Fred, who was now juggling with the empty water skins out of boredom. He checked behind him when one fell onto the sand followed quickly by the other two, trying to convince the others that he had _meant_ to do that.

"I'm gonna buy a boxing ring and learn how to fight!" Fred said enthusiastically, gripping his fist together in excitement. "With the money from the discovery," he explained when both John and Nick looked at him in confusion. "What you gonna do when you get out of here?"

Nick smiled at this question, a wistful grin forming on his face. "I'm going to get a bunny rabbit!"

It took a while for this information to sink into the others. "What!" they both cried at once.

"What?" Nick said, giggling slightly. "I've always wanted one. I like rabbits."

John scrunched up his face in bewilderment. It was strange some of the things people wanted to get when they were rich. Some people bought every item that they could, wanted or not. Others continued to live their lives, not allowing their bulging bank account to change their life style. He supposed it all hinged on whether that person was happy. Nick would be satisfied with the simple love that a rabbit would provide. Fred wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. He began considering what he would buy with his share of the money and how it would reflect on him.

"I think I'll use my share of the money to buy that Johnson house and build a lab."

"What?" Fred asked, sceptically. "No Ferraris? No expensive mansion?"

"I'm happy with that house, thank you very much. Besides, when word gets out that we discovered a meteorite we'll become famous. The recognition is enough for me."

"Yeah!" Nick agreed partially. "Think of all the fancy do's we'll attend. We'll be the envy of every scientist ever."

"We'll be put into commercials!" Fred said dreamily.

"Maybe we'll have our own show, Nick's science time!" He said, drawing his hand across the sky as he imagined reading the starlit, neon sign. "You can be the coffee boy," he laughed, pointing at Fred. 

"WHAT!" Fred shouted, laughs puncturing the word. "If I'm the coffee boy, I'm gonna be a really bad one!"

"We'll have to share it," Nick continued, a little worried perhaps that the others were planning to leave him out of the running. He allowed a sigh of relief when Fred replied, "Of course! We all did this together, even Adam all though he did nothing more than whinge the entire journey…"

"Now Fred,"

"No, John, hear me out," he interrupted, avoiding the criticism. "When we get out of here it isn't going to just be the rock over there that will make us famous," he said gesturing towards the shimmering meteor, "but this very story where we had to fight against the odds. When they found out that Adam flipped, he'll be the laughing stock of the entire science community. I doubt anyone will ever want to speak to him again."

"Maybe we shouldn't tell them," John said a crushing order that he expected Fred and Nick to follow. "We all went a little crazy out here. It could have been anyone of us…"

"But it wasn't. It was Adam."

Finding nothing to say to that remark, John silently turned to Nick who was smiling once again as he continued to stare at the chemical under the microscope. The meteor had pretty much gone unnoticed since its discovery and John couldn't help but wonder if the meteor was actually a vessel of some sort, designed to carry the chemical x. However the dynamics of the meteorite suggested that it had been untouched by anyone's but God's influence. Still it was perplexing. The meteor had silenced now that it no longer held the liquid inside of it. Utonium couldn't help but wonder about the strange properties of it and if they really wanted to know them.

"We'll definitely be famous when we get out of here," Nick said dreamily.

They weren't going to become famous though by sitting in the desert and waiting for death to claim them. They had to move on.

"It's time to start walking," John told them as he picked up his sleeping bag from he ground, a shower of sand spilling from inside where the wind had blown it. "We're not going to become famous if no one knows of the discovery. We've determined that we follow the northern star and we can hardly do that at day time can we?" He threw his backpack over his shoulder and gave a smile designed to comfort his friends.

"I'll get Adam."

&*****************************************************************************************&

Something was wrong.

When it had happened, John didn't know. How, he couldn't determine. Why wasn't even worth asking. But something had happened in those few short minutes to Adam.

The first sign that John noticed was wrong came when he first laid eyes on Adam. He was hunched sitting on top of his backpack as he had been since he sat down, as if he hadn't moved since then. That was impossible. They had all heard his snoring during the discussion, meaning he must have fallen asleep. Yet he still looked tired, those heavy bags under his eyes said it all.

The second sign came from his treatment to the other members after he had finally got up. Fred had approached Adam only to be severely slammed for not being ready to get up and go. All that hostility had returned, but especially at Fred. John was blaming it on the discovery of the meteorite still, deciding that the change in emotions was still rampant therefore he shouldn't hold it as important.

He should have.

The third sign came from the way he acted. He was once again snapping at everyone but this time it held dangerously psychotic undertones in the way he spoke it, and it was often coupled with a gesture or promise of physical violence.

As they continued to trek their way along unchanging terrain, John couldn't help but watch after the enigma, studying every movement, every sign, interpreting it to something, anything that may explain why he was acting the way he was. 

It was at this point that John remembered a particularly heartfelt poem named "Not waving but drowning". Adam must have been like that his entire life, born in the choking depths of the sea whilst his family watched from the shore, laughing and joking. The other night he and the others had thrown him a lifeline. They thought he had taken it.

But he hadn't

He had swum away from it as if they had thrown him a poisonous snake, leaving the rope twitching in the water.

The other night, Adam had exposed himself, his heart, and even his most precious dream even if he hadn't meant to. Now he was angry with himself for allowing this information to slip and even more angry with them for listening. It was almost as if he had blamed his momentary lapse of protection on them. At least that's what John thought, that he was angry at letting down his guard, that he had accepted the compassion of those he swore not to. Now he felt vulnerable, perhaps even embarrassed about allowing himself to feel and was now going out of his way to convince them that he didn't want their help.

Indeed he was going to excruciating lengths to do that now.

"Hurry up!" he ordered harshly, practically dragging the others behind him. Nick puffed with the renewed effort that the muscles in his body were enduring, barely, bordering once again on another collapse from exhaustion.

"Can't…we…slow…down?"

Adam scoffed at this proceeding to actually quicken his pace rather than slow it as suggested. "Get yourself moving you lazy…"

"Ease off Adam," Fred interrupted, his voice clearly conveying how he felt about the exasperating tedious, repetitiveness that had been their interaction since day one.

To everyone's surprise, Adam drew to a halt. He turned, marched straight up to Fred until he was directly in front if him. He leaned down and stared directly into Fred's eyes, their faces just centimetres away. Lighting sparked between them.

"You're getting on my nerves," he growled.

Fred blinked, not intimidated in the slightest. "What? Again?"

Adam turned away, too disgusted to even look at them anymore. Again he began to march, not caring when Fred cursed loudly.

Nick slowed his pace until he was level with John who had deliberately hung back to assess the situation. Fred was now yelling after Adam, annoyance dripping from his voice as he desperately tried to get him to slow down to a more leisurely pace.

"What's going on?" Nick asked, obviously noting the same things that John had earlier. Nick was incredibly intelligent as were the rest of them but he hid it in a very humbling way. He very rarely showed it to others.

Ahead of them the shouting became more poignant and both members were flailing limbs wildly in what John hoped was nothing more than an idle warning.

"Something happened last night," he babbled realising that they had to determine the problem soon before someone got hurt. John rose one hand to his head in an attempt to ease his headache and sort out the muddled thoughts of which there were so many. "Nick, I don't know what."

"You'd of thought he'd be happy we'd found the meteorite and a new specimen at that. Doesn't that mean that his dream has been fulfilled?"

They both looked ahead at Adam, grimacing as he jolted towards Fred with a fist raised high and Fred donning a defensive stance. So far no blows had been exchanged but both knew that it wouldn't last long.

"That sounds familiar. Did you say that last night?"

"Uh, something around that area, why?

As John pondered this niggling sensation in his mind, Nick took the opportunity to down a little water. He offered some to John, who refused, before telling him it was now empty and slipping it away.

"What was the last thing said before Adam went to sleep?"

This time it was Nick's turn to be thoughtful. "I said that we'd be famous when we got back."

"WE," John emphasised; seizing the mistake and making Nick feel a little guiltier than he had intended.

It had been rumoured that children who were neglected by their family and if they ever received attention from another, demanded all of it for themselves and hated having to share because it reminded them too much of their childhood. Was that Adam's problem? Maybe Adam wanted the meteorite discovery all to himself. It would definitely make sense. However when John looked at Adam's angry demeanour he felt that there was much more to it than that. It wasn't just that Adam thought they polluted the science profession that he deemed so highly with their incompetence, and therefore saw it as an insult towards himself and other scientists that he had to share the discovery with them. It was more than his trying to convince them he didn't care for their compassion or his vulnerability at revealing untold truths to absolute strangers. It was more than that, so much more.

"I have to be honest with you, John," Nick whispered, eyes gazing at the moon lit sand. John waited expectantly, concerned by the saddened tone to his voice. He looked up briefly to say, "I wish we never found the meteorite," and then resumed his previous position.

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. The meteorite was the sole purpose of the expedition. It was just like taking a bath and complaining on how it made you clean. 

He softened his tone as much as he could. "I thought you were happy at discovering the meteorite."

"I was, at first," his voice trailed away, misery dripping form every word. "But look at Adam. I think the discovery blew up his circuits. He told us it was his dream to discover a meteorite, and we did, but I don't think it was what he imagined."

"Explain," John prompted, trying to ignore the shouting coming from ahead of them. He glanced up at the sky to check they were heading the right direction from the northern star. They had all consumed themselves in their separate worlds that no one had actually checked their direction. It was lucky that they hadn't drifted from the path, as John really didn't want to have to break it to Adam and Fred.

"Well he obviously doesn't like us," Nick started, "and his dream involved him finding the meteorite. I don't think he wants to share it with us."

"That's my conclusion," John admitted, "but I thought you were for finding the comet? Last night you thought there was nothing wrong with him."

"What you said made a lot of sense. I guess I just didn't want to believe that we are stuck with the same old Adam until we get back."

Nick then said something that John had longed to hear since the discovery of the meteorite. "I don't feel safe around him."

So he'd admitted it, as John had longed to do. He intimidated him, frightened him immensely and he was glad that he wasn't the only one who was susceptible to this fear. Fred, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on it as he was usually the only one who would take a stand against the giant when John couldn't find the energy to do so himself. At first he had tried to convince himself that he didn't want to get involved, which, admittedly, he didn't, but part of that decision was made more out of fear than it a desire to remain neutral.

"I know how you feel," he said to offer the same relief to Nick as he had just done for him. "I don't know what he's going to do next. I feel like a person trying to figure out when a volcano is going to erupt."

Nick hummed in agreement. "Last night though seemed to clinch it, but I don't remember anyone saying anything that may have upset him."

John systematically sorted through last night, skipping thought the discovery, the research and the tired, happy and short conversation at the end of it all. No where could he remember anyone saying anything that may have offended Adam when he part of the conversation. All they had discussed was how they would become famous when they got back and little else. He had noticed that Adam had fell almost silent (except to give insults) at one point but he put that down to exhaustion. Adam had after all exhausted most of his emotional energy by his varying reactions during the discovery.

"We…"

The argument between Adam and Fred had become increasingly louder during the conversation between the remaining members of the group, so much so now they could barely hear each other over the screaming. Nick and John sighed at the same time, realising that they hadn't unearthed anything about Adam that they didn't already know hence they were still stuck with that same problem.

They continued the discussion for a few more seconds until they both heard something that made their stomachs turn.

The unmistakable sound of bone meeting flesh. Hard.

&**************************************************************************************&

Both Nick and John were shocked beyond words when they saw Fred lying on the floor, one hand clamped painfully over his lip. The hurt person barely had time to pick himself up from the ground before another well-planted kick landed into his side. Fred tumbled.

He crunched his eyes against the pain before delivering something extraordinary of his own.

A look of concentrated contempt, easily out powering Adam's stony features came from Fred.

And then something strange happened.

With a little effort he stood up in the sand, one arm still clinging onto his ribs. He growled animal like, raised one hand and said three little gestured words.

"Bring it on."

&***&

The decision to hand over the microscope and the vast majority of the strange mixture they had gained from the meteorite to Nick had been a lucky one as Adam shoved Fred in the back, knocking him to the ground. The brutal giant however found no satisfaction in this simple strike, and advanced on the fallen man, hungry for more. Fred crawled away as best he could, Adam chasing him.

John quickly caught onto what was going on as he saw the fight unravelling ahead of him. He quickly turned to Nick, gesturing to his backpack where the meteorite was held.

"Hold that close to you, but not actually on you. We can't afford to lose that chemical!" John ordered. Nick obeyed; dumping his backpack on the floor, both chemical and meteorite now separated from him.

John quickly turned on his heel, walking stoutly towards the two. He was deliberately ignoring the fact that if Adam were on a rampage, Nick would probably be his main target and that he was leaving his friend and the chemical in extreme danger.

"Adam!" He cried "What are you doing?!"

The giant turned to look at him, his eyes blazing with insanity. John silently gasped at the sheer lack of any human compassion. Adam smirked.

He dived at Fred.

The fist came like lightning as it struck Fred, a solid punch that sent Fred flying head over heels into the sand.

John could do nothing more than watch the two fight from the sidelines. Both Adam and Fred were much more muscular than he was and he dare not get in the middle of such emotional driven strikes as those ahead. With out being able to offer physical assistance to his best friend he could only try and calm both of them down, shouting at the tangled men as they wrestled on the sand. If John didn't know any better he would have thought that Fred was enjoying this as much as Adam.

Then it all slotted into place. Their discussion earlier regarding children, Fred's admission that he wanted to be like his father, a champion martial artist, the way he condoned violence in a way that John didn't think he would. It was all adding together now like the last piece in the puzzle.

Fred wanted to continue the fight.

His 'dragon spirit' as he had called it earlier was proving to be an equal opponent for that of Adam's storm of fists, despite the injuries he had sustained. John could tell that Fred's main attack was his defence as he avoided fist after fist, kick after kick with a strong parry that would have made any fighter jealous.

John screamed at them some more for all the good it did.

The fight was becoming more heated. Adam's lip had been split and a dark circle had formed around one eye already. Fred, apart form the injury he had sustained during the previous surprise attack hadn't been touched. He bobbed and wove, easily avoiding every badly placed punch. Adam was getting even more infuriated, if that were possible, blinded by his rage as he thrashed against his more nimble enemy.

Nick sat, protecting the meteorite but watched with a saddened heart as the two men fought. John's feeble attempts at stopping the fight had been unsuccessful but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. He was acting as the voice of reason, desperately trying to get through to both parties.

Fred however, despite the throbbing pain in his side appeared to be enjoying the fight as he laughed, albeit a little painfully, whenever Adam missed a punch and he was able to retaliate with a devastating counter. The only sign that Adam was once one of them was the fact that he looked like them, nothing more.

"Come on guys, this isn't helping!" John tried as he accidentally ran into Adam's way forcing him to duck underneath his fist.

"Come on, you hunk a junk. Hit me!" taunted Fred, still energetically bouncing on his feet. Adam lunged at him and once again missed by an inch. Fred elbowed him hard in the exposed spine, forcing him down, doubling the effect when Fred slammed his knee into his stomach.

"Guys! Stop it!"

Adam picked himself up like a man possessed. His eyes brunt fiercely and he wore a cold scowl.

He ran at Fred again, this time catching him in the one place he knew he could hurt him.

Fred fell onto the sand, doubled up in pain. Adam advanced, clearly intending to finish the job. This was not a matter of winning any more, but a matter of who got injured more.

John had no choice in the matter now. He had to step into the ring no matter how much he detested violence. He jumped in front of Fred, arms outstretched to protect his friend. Adam continued to advance.

"Adam!" John tried. "Stop this! It's futile!" 

He shouldn't have even bothered. Adam ignored him. As the man turned psycho reached him, he merely reached out one arm and tore John away from his stance, throwing him painfully onto the ground.

"John!" Fred gasped, still unable to stand.

He couldn't stop Adam by acting as a barrier and with very little else to do, John launched himself at Adam, jumped onto his back and tried throttling the behemoth.

This, unlike before DID get his attention as he snapped his body this way and that, spinning to try and get John off from his back. John screamed the entire time as he clung onto Adam.

Fred managed to get up then. He screamed and rammed Adam, delivering a head butt to his mid rift. He then helped John as he too clung onto his back. 

After a few more seconds of thrashing Fred managed to trip up his ferocious friend, and he landed with a soft thud. Both John and Fred sat on his back.

"Get off me!"

They did more because Adam despite their combined weight was still able to get up rather than because he had asked them to. He stumbled away, growling all the time.

"Give it up," John ordered; adopting the tone that no one dared question. "The fight is over."

"I'll get you for this. I swear it."

"I suggest you calm down!" John screamed, looking back and forth between both Fred and Adam. "This is pointless."

Fred stilled his breathing the pain finally registering now there was nothing to take his mind off it. He looked at Adam smugly; his cheeks reddened with the recent exertion that his body had just faced.

"If we want to get out of here alive then I suggest we work as a team."

"Team?! Like that's going to help," he spat.

John took a moment to calm himself, never mind Adam. 

But Adam's attention was not on John, or even Fred.

John's fears were realised.

He exploded towards Nick before anyone realised what he was doing. John ran after, even Fred managed to hobble towards him.

Meanwhile Nick was standing, paralysed by fear. Adam soared towards him, one elbow ready and waiting to attack.

Nick couldn't move, he couldn't even attempt to run. 

There was no time.

He was helpless.

Adam was just metres away now, a startling battle cry lingering in his throat. 

One fist was raised.

Nick braced himself for the impact, for the hateful blow to be delivered.

He was ready.

And then Adam pushed past him, that fist falling down to his side not to be used. Instead he gave a hefty push, knocking Nick down as he had done to John before. The weakened man didn't take it well and fell to the floor.

Adam continued running.

John quickly dived down to Nick, sweeping a hand under his back. He was about to ask him if he was all right but Fred's cry stopped him before he could.

"John! The meteor!"

Indeed Adam was heading towards the discarded backpack, the sanctuary of their hopes and dreams.

Then it slotted into place. Adam DID want it all to himself. Why else would he head towards the meteor? He knew that he had done it now, that there would be no chance that they would share it with him. He was left with only one option. Taking the meteor himself.

"Oh my God."

John was forced to go after Adam now. Fred was injured as was Nick leaving him and Adam left. Despite the fact that Fred had landed some very good hits it hadn't slowed him any. John realised that he must have been fighting on hatred alone now.

John had to stop him.

He was the only one who could.

&****************************************************************************************&

Knowing that he wouldn't win in a physical fight, John was forced to rely on negotiation. That was one of his strengths that not many people knew about it. Fred was a much better negotiator than he was but at the current moment in time he didn't care much for words and was relying on the primitive but effective use of violence.

He reached Adam as he was invading Nick's backpack, chucking food wrappers, clothes and all sorts of things out of the bag in his search for the precious meteorite. John slowed to a halt. Each step closer to Adam was becoming increasingly difficult. He stopped just short when Adam let out a triumphant yell. He pulled out the meteor and chemical x, both gleaming in the moonlight with a foreboding magnificence.

__

Okay John, he told himself,_ it's time to prove you can negotiate._

"Adam, what are you doing!" he began when Adam began laughing at the meteorite, eyes glittering with a copious amount of insanity. He was even in the classical evil man pose, arms bent back, fists partially open and, of course, the patented evil laugh.

Adam glared daggers at him, all compassion lost. "Hee hee hee," he giggled, wrapping the meteorite in a protective field of limbs.

"Well!"

"Foolish Utonium," he spat maliciously.

John growled. "What's wrong with you Adam? I thought you were better now?"

More heartless laughter, but as the seconds passed by and the three companions looked on, those laughs turned into sobs that he could not contain.

"You must think me stupid!" Adam yelled, taking one step closer to John. Bravely he stood his ground, fighting hard against the onslaught of fear inside of him. His brain screamed for him to turn and run, but his heart said continue.

"I don't think you're stupid," John said slowly, one palm outstretched and lowering to try and get him to calm down.

"Deranged maybe," he heard Fred mutter and Nick couldn't help but agree.

"Adam," John began again, ignoring his friends' criticisms. "You shouldn't attack people for no reason…"

"No reason! NO REASON!" Adam cut in, furious. Another step forward. "You think I had no reason. Well Mr Science guy, you're wrong."

"And why is that?"

Another step.

"I had my reasons." He shrugged deeply as if it were nothing. "First, he was really getting on my nerves." He turned to Fred, hatred bleeding from his eyes. "I DO HAVE FRIENDS!" he screamed, tears now cascading down his face. "AND I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T LIKE ME!"

He then turned to Nick who crawled backwards as a response. "And you," he said hissing, "I deserve friends as much as anyone." Then finally to John. "I don't need your pity!"

He was yelling, half bent over in pain. John found himself wondering if Fred had made an impact after all. The sad realisation was that it wasn't a physical pain that was causing him to hunch over, but an emotional one. They were witnessing the release of years of concentrated despair, anger, hatred, and sadness. All of it was flooding out of him now. The dam that he had built to hold back those powerful emotions that built every time people ignored him, struck him with their apathy, and more importantly, pushed him to the darkness, were being released now. That helpless anger, the desire for an answer that never came, for someone to wipe away those tears rather than yell them away, and the bitterness that his dreams were never answered. No worse than that, they were crushed.

All of it was escaping in a tremendous release that was years overdue.

Adam then clutched onto the meteor tighter and the chemical x. He strapped one onto his belt, throwing the rest of them in his worn backpack, fondly caressing the one on his belt when he answered. 

"I'll show them all who they should have noticed…"

"Adam,"

"You people," he cried with dangerous undertones. "You have no idea what it's like being me…"

"Then explain it…"

"Oh no!" he cried, wrapping the meteor even more tightly in his grasp. "I'm not telling you everything. You have no idea what it's like waiting for someone to acknowledge your existence. Just to hear the words "well done"? Do you realise how much I was judged by my parents for not being…" he paused then continued in a much more hateful tone, "like Harold".

His body was trembling with the emotional energy that boiled inside of him, brimming over his defences for the first ever time.

John was losing control of the situation and he knew it. Emotions in such quantities, especially ones on the negative side of the spectrum, were dangerous. Couple it with a psychotic mind and you have a recipe for serious disaster.

He took another step forward, closing the gap between them no matter how stupid it may have been.

"We're your friends Adam," he tried but he was only laughed at again. 

"Friends?" He asked, in sceptical amazement. "Friends don't bitch about each other behind their backs." He stopped, gave one look at the meteorite, and more importantly, the chemical before pulling something out of his pocket.

John stepped back as the saw a sliver of fire run up a metal blade.

No, not a blade for it was too small. 

John surreptitiously looked on the item concealed in Adam's hand. It was almost so small that it could easily be passed over and he found himself wondering if the others had noticed, and, if they hadn't, whether he wanted to draw their and Adams attention to it.

Indeed Adam seem pleased at his reaction, a malevolent grin growing on his face as he looked into John's terror stricken eyes. He quickly looked at the item, then to John and then back again until John understood the gesture.

Then he looked at Fred.

There was no way he could negotiate with him now, John knew that, he had gone beyond the point of no return. Then, to his shock, Adam suddenly grabbed the sole chemical x container from his belt, turning slightly so no one could see what on earth it was he was doing. He contemplated jumping Adam but knew that the item in his hand, whatever it was, could inflict some damage to him so he kept back, waiting.

After a few seconds Adam turned back around, grinning inanely. The object in his hand was still concealed but something dripped from the end.

"Whose idea was it, hmm?" Adam asked, looking at them through the tears. "Was it yours John?"

He stepped forward, fist clenching. John stood his ground but inside his heart was thundering. When Adam stopped centimetres away, his heart stopped.

"No," Adam said, causing Johns heart to beat again. "You didn't plan it."

He glanced at Nick and Fred. Fred was hunched over, a lot like Adam, standing protectively in front of Nick. Adam turned to them, his fist clenching even tighter so John couldn't tell what the object was.

"Adam!" John cried in an attempt to protect Fred. It was no good.

Adam stopped in front of Fred, tears meeting a low scowl in an unmistakable intensity.

"You on the other hand…"

"What!" Fred dared, standing as tall as his injuries would allow. "What did we plan?"

"I can take the lies," he said loudly, frantically gesturing to see if Fred would react. He didn't, with a stout heart he held his ground, just as John did. But John had a feeling that Fred would not take kindly to a second invasion of personal space and would take steps to defend it.

"Yes, I know about your lies regarding his 'so called brother'," he pointed at Nick. Then in a low, threatening growl, he said. "But I won't let you take my dream."

"Your dream?" Fred spat, pouring on fuel to the fire. "Your dream means nothing to any of us. For God's sake get a grip on reality Adam! No one's trying to steal anything from you, you're the one who's going crazy over a dead rock!"

Adam seemed personally offended by the insult and leaned even closer to Fred. Then the strange object was revealed.

It was, as John suspected not a knife but part of it was metal. On closer scrutiny John realised what the object was.

A needle.

John looked on confused. What was he going to do with a needle? Never mind that, why did he have a needle in the first place? It was hardly something that you took into the desert unless…

Adam held the first aid kit!

But what damage was he intending to do with a needle that was specifically designed not to hurt. Of course it could be used as a weapon if aimed at a particularly sensitive part of the body like the eye, but still…

"Adam, what are you doing with…"

He didn't have time to finish. Adam suddenly shot his arm forward; the needle pointed towards Fred who looked on surprised if not slightly curious. He had time to mouth a quick "what?" before the needle plunged straight into his arm.

Adam jumped back, his job done.

John didn't know what to think. Was Adam's mental state so confused that he had to injure someone no matter how small?

John didn't move from his spot, his mind befuddled. 

"And what good did that do, Adam?" John criticised hardly. "Look at…" his words trailed off, never to be finished. The empty needle was still implanted in Fred's arm but his face had now become as pale as a ghost. His limbs trembled; his eyes were haunted as he softly dropped to his knees.

The needle's purpose done, it dropped to the floor, idle. Fred's looked up at Adam, hands clamped over the spot where the needle once protruded. But he didn't look irritated as John had expected but a look of abstract terror. 

A look that would be imprinted on his memory for all eternity.

John was at his side in an instant, ignoring the laughing spectre as he dived onto the sand. He placed a caring hand on Fred's heaving shoulders, his body was now convulsing wildly, and John had to hold him down. Nick got up and helped, offering reassurances to Fred even if he didn't know why.

"Fred what's wrong?!" 

His only reply was that of a tortured cough. Adam laughed at the pain ahead of him, enjoying it as if it were a comedy.

"What did you do!?" John demanded forcibly. Adam continued to laugh. He pointed a shaking finger towards the discarded needle.

John agreed, curious as to why Fred had reacted so badly to a simple injection. Fred was not allergic to anything. Then his eyes lay onto the needle.

The needle had been completely emptied of its contents, but, on closer inspection, there appeared to be black liquid dripping from the end.

John stomach's turned and his face became as pale as Fred's had.

"Chemical x," he breathed.

"I have all the water," Adam said smugly, all sadness now gone from his voice. "Remember? I took Nick's water supply and you idiots never thought to get it back? Don't you realise that I've been drinking yours all this time to save my own?"

"You did this," and Nick paused, finding the energy to say the word but still not believing it when he did, "intentionally?"

Another hoarse laugh coupled with a smug smile that made John believe that killing was not only legal, but also an obligatory course of action.

"Of course! You think I didn't figure that northern star thing out myself?"

This time Nick jumped up, finding an untapped resource of courage. He raised his fists in a silent challenge, daring Adam to attack him. Tears of disbelief stood in his own eyes.

"You…mean…you…"

"I knew about the northern star thing before we set off."

"Then why didn't you tell the rest of us!" John demanded, tending to a fading friend as he did so.

Adam smirked, revelling in this moment. "I wasn't going to leave this desert without a meteor piece, to go back there and be proved a failure as they expected."

"You did this deliberately!" John cried in disbelief, all compassion towards Adam thrown out the window. "You intentionally got us lost in the desert just so you could find a stupid rock!"

"Not any rock," Adam contradicted, "but a revolutionary one. I had no intention of sticking with you when I found it. I guess this is where we part ways."

"How can you do this?" Nick asked silently. 

Adam shrugged. Then he turned so he could see John, those eyes boring into his. "I'm a little tired," he confessed. "Didn't get much sleep."

Nick looked on confused. "What does that mean?"

"Oh my God…" John whispered but loud enough for Nick to hear. Adam could have made a run for it could have escaped before John and Nick came to their senses. He didn't. He continued to watch their reaction, enjoying every single minute.

Meanwhile Nick was glancing at the dumbstruck John, a look of pure terror across his face. "John?" He prompted trying to get him to explain. Fred was out of the equation for now, too concerned with the poisonous chemical that was spreading throughout his entire body, destroying him.

"My god…"

"John!"

He stared on; the realisation felt like ice was spreading throughout him. John turned onto Nick. "He listened to us."

Nick still didn't understand. "What?"

"Those nights that we talked about having kids, last night when we…"

It struck home. Of course they should have noticed earlier. Adam had quoted them word for word. 

"I don't care if Fred doesn't like me," Adam repeated, smirking uncontrollably. He looked at Nick. "I deserve friends as much as anyone," then finally, John's turn, " and I don't need your pity."

Adam had listened in that night when they had discussed how they felt about him, when they had criticised who he was. They had told each other their true thoughts. Fred had confided that he didn't like him, Nick that he thought Adam didn't deserve friends, and finally, John said he had pitied him. It sickened him to think that as they spilt their hearts to each other, Adam had been sitting on his backpack, listening to every single word, growing more and more bitter at every thing they said. That's why he always looked tired, that was why they had found him sitting on his backpack as if he hadn't moved, and the scary thing was that _he hadn't._

"But we heard him…"

Then Adam began snoring loudly as he stood, proving Nick's point. He had wanted them to open up and he knew they would only do that if he presumed him to be asleep.

"Good god," John breathed.

The reserve of courage not yet exhausted, Nick took on the burden of questioning. "What if we didn't find a meteorite? What then?"

"I was going to find a meteorite or die trying. We did find a meteorite though," he said happily, lightly throwing the sphere into the air then catching it with one hand. 

"What were you intending to do with us!" Nick cried.

"I'm glad you asked," Adam said. "I knew that the meteorite would be found eventually, and I had no intention of sharing the discovery with a bunch of cretins such as yourself."

Fred growled through his pain but did nothing more. 

"I couldn't have gone back with you lot who would steal all the limelight now, could I? So, I decided that leaving you here would be the best plan."

"In the desert?" Nick asked, angrily. "You were planning on leaving us to die in the desert all along?!" 

"I had to get you out of the running somehow. My first idea came on the plane on the way here."

If John didn't feel sickened before, he definitely did now. He remembered approaching Adam on the plane to try and convince him that perhaps the trip had not been such a good idea, only to have Adam get annoyed at him for interrupting something. It sickened him, really sickened him to realise that Adam was planning their deaths that very moment, contemplating how he would kill him and his friends. 

He could taste the bile rising in his throat but he swallowed it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

To think that this was the very same man who had openly cried just a few nights ago, who had opened his heart. He had told them his dreams knowing full well that the people who tried so hard to reach out to him were going to be dead at the end of this trip, meteor or no meteor.

"And how are you intending to get out of the desert before us?" 

A cold, cruel smirk grew across his features. He extended one hand, drifting it lazily over each of them in turn. Eventually the outstretched digit came to rest on Fred.

"I heard you mention that chemical x was highly toxic. And, rather than inject the poison I had originally intended, I couldn't resist the irony factor! Come on! He was killed by his own discovery! How ironic is that!"

They all growled at him in turn, neither though making a move. "My original target was Nick," Adam confessed, looking at the ginger haired man, "but, Fred just got on my nerves and over time I changed my mind."

He had to ask it, even if it was sealing his fate. In fact he was practically inviting Adam to do the same to them as he had done to Fred, but John had to know. "Why just him?" and Nick looked at John, unable to believe that he had asked the question.

"That was my original plan," he confessed as he tucked the meteor away safely. "But that little conversation of yours changed my mind. I decided 'Hey, why not let them suffer?'"

Fred attempted to pick himself up from the ground. He was sweating profusely and his teeth were clamped together to try and over ride the pain. 

"Let them watch their friend die, let them mourn for him, and then let them wait in the desert with the knowledge that they were about to go the same way."

"You're insane," Nick breathed, backing away and Adam almost smiled, seeing it as a complement.

The atmosphere was heavily tense with no one truly knowing what to do next or even daring to contemplate a course of action. Fred was down, Nick was injured (although not gravely) leaving John, the man who condemned violence for years, to try and soothe the savage beast that was Adam.

He was failing miserably and it seemed the deeper he delved into Adam's reasons for the attack, the more disturbing and disgusting the conversation became.

"You remember when we bought these suits?" Adam asked, pulling at the sand-covered clothes that coated his entire body and protected him for the penetrative sand. The suit had held up well, it should have done for the extortionate price that they bought them for, but it still looked battered and weary as if to match the people inside of the suits. Tiny rivulets of sand were running from the creases where they had been imprisoned, falling silently back towards its brethren. 

It was obvious that Adam was going somewhere with this, but where John couldn't decipher. "We were all very drunk," he continued cryptically. "We bought the most stupid things. Hats, umbrellas, and, we brought something else too. Something, useful…"

He stopped, watching John in particular for any sign of recognition. He had to admit that he thought that they bought more than just the desert suits but since he found nothing else in his possession the following day he assumed he had either lost it or not bought it in the first place. 

Ahead of him Adam fished in his pocket, rummaging around until his hand lay rest on the item he was searching for. Deliberately he pulled it out of his pocket and began to deeply inspect the object, ensuring that that others could not see what he held in his hands by hiding it close to him.

He was enjoying this, John thought, every single second of it. He was relishing their pain and torment

as if it were a wonderful drug that he needed to get high. He didn't seem to care that his actions would cost the life of one, if not all of their members.

Indeed Adam checked all of their faces before opening his palm and revealing the object held within. John instinctively leant forward to get a better view and when he saw the object he almost wished he hadn't bothered.

It was a small circular piece item. One face of the circle was transparent plastic. In the moonlight John could just about see inside of it, and even managed to see a "W" engraved on the very right side and the edge of a needlepoint.

It was a compass.

"I hid this when you bought them," Adam explained, realising that they knew now what the item was. 

"I knew that we entered from the west, and I knew that the comet had fallen on the edge of the desert. So, I thought, we'll travel south along the edge and see if we can find it. But when nothing turned up I was forced to travel deeper into the desert to find what I came here for. " He clenched his fist with the compass inside and they all winced as they heard their saving grace being destroyed. He threw the dismantled compass at them and it landed side up in the sand, already being coated by the golden grains.

"I knew that if you lot used those compasses then you'd figure out a way on how to get out of the desert. So I had to take them off you."

"Why did you ask us to go with you?" Nick squeaked that reserve of courage now reaching a dangerous low.

Adam blinked at the question. "Why did I invite you?"

"Yeah," John agreed. "Why didn't you just come on your own? Why bother going with other people and then have to go through all of this?"

They all fell into a pregnant silence as they waited for Adam to explain, however he was actually having trouble coming up with a reason.

"I had to come with you," he said uncertainly, "I didn't want to come on my own."

His eyes brightened then as he remembered why. "I was going to stay in this desert until I found the meteorite. If I collapsed, I was going to tell you how to get out so you could drag me back home. And also, you're good at carrying things. Four people can carry more than one."

"You couldn't…"

"I stole half of your food and water while you lot were sleeping. It wasn't difficult to do you know."

"You monster…"

John hushed Nick with a raised hand, and held up Fred with the other. He looked at Adam levelly, an idea forming in his head.

"You knew that we lied to you about Nick having a brother," he started, remembering when Adam had yelled at them about that. "Since you heard that part, you must have heard why we did it."

Adam snorted as he snapped his head to the side. "You did it to get me to open up," he mimicked scornfully, repeating the words spoken that very night. "Maybe I didn't want to open up."

"But you did!" Nick cried, reaching the end of his tether. "You cried and…and… told us about your family. Don't you remember?"

"More reason to hate you I would have thought. I can't have vicious lies spread about me when I'm the number one scientist."

He looked up at the sky, eyes blazing.

"Well I have the rest of your water supply," he finished, gesturing to the large amount of containers on his belt. He glanced at them, immortalising their terrified faces in his memory.

"You know I can handle the lies about having a brother, about how you respected me. But my dream, you tried to take it away! It was my idea to come on this trip! NOT yours. After all the years of hardship and neglect you expect me to share my new specimen with you?" He looked back at John levelly, his eyes demonically menacing. "I can live with that fact that you tried to steal my dream," he paused. The next two words he said had such horrendous connotations and they were bulging with hatred. He spoke the words so coldly that goose pimples formed on the back of John's neck. "You can't."

Fred struggled to his feet. John aided him, linking his arms with Fred's although he was unsure that Fred should attempt to move. Beads of sweat were raining from his forehead and his face was deathly pale. He looked at Adam with a helpless anger.

"You…"

And with that Adam took one last look at them, studying them for the very last time. He turned, offering a smile. He began to walk away, John noticed he had pulled out another compass from his pocket.

Nick ran a few steps after him, but collapsed to his knees in the sand after that. He hung his head with a mixture of misery and anger, his arms shaking with the effort of holding back his emotions.

Adam continued to walk into the distance, quickly turning into a silhouette on the horizon. 

For no reason at all but to vent his anger, Nick, with a piercing yell, cried out Adam's name.

And then Adam was gone, the darkness shrouding his muscular figure as he disappeared behind the sand hill. The scurrying sand covered all evidence of his existence.

Fred was putting on a brave face despite the fact that the poison was coursing through his veins, slowly and surely killing him. He tried to hide the pain that he was in, but was failing.

As for John, he couldn't help but stare blindly into the sand, silently cursing himself for not noticing this earlier so he could have prevented this from ever happening. And he also couldn't help but notice that the vultures circled above them and in the distance where Adam had headed.

"We're doomed," he whispered and the vultures cawed in agreement.

&*****************************************************************************************&

Please visit part three to read the rest of this story.

Thank you for reading Part two.


	3. Default Chapter Title

****

ANGEL DOM: The curse of chemical x

Part three

Author's note

I'm trusting that you've read the first part first so I won't repeat myself too much here;

1) I cut this down into four parts after more than a few people (not all reviewed) thought it was a little too long. I realised that it is still quite large but it can not be cut down any further. I ask you to please be patient when reading it. This is Part three of four.

2) Powerpuff girls are property of Cartoon Network.

3) My eternal gratitude and supply of Cherry bakewells to **Nicole Sabatti** for being such a fantastic friend. This fan fiction would have never been completed without her help. So thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!! Zoy!

4) I honestly believe that the story goes down hill from here so I'm not going to be surprised if you don't like it. I don't know why I bothered to write that as its completely irrelevant but hey.

&***********************************************************************************&

Nick continued to cry out Adam's name long after the brute had vanished from their sight

John was lost in his thoughts. Adam knew the three men almost too well for John's liking and he found himself wondering over time if Adam had spied on them before the journey began to see what made them tick. He knew that they would never abandon a fellow man, never mind best friend in the desert unlike he would. Now they had to carry Fred over the desert, add the insult of the problem that they could only travel at night, unlike Adam who had a compass and the treasonable theft of all of their water supply bar one had sealed their fate.

The last nail in the coffin had been hammered in.

John didn't know what to do and this scared him. Always before in his life he knew some way, no matter how unusual or unlikely to work. Before he had tended to offer suggestions to Fred who, although not the actual leader, had always been the intellectual centre of the group, but he was far too ill to offer any support now. Nick, all though bright and witty was not leader material, which left him. What made things worse were that the others knew this and were secretly looking to him for advice. John didn't know what to tell them. He had no idea how they were going to trek god knows how long with a man who could barely manage to walk coupled by the fact they had no water, no food and more importantly, no hope.

Adam had won. 

There was no way that all of them would get out of the desert alive. It took all of his energy to say it, even if it was in the privacy of his own mind, but if anyone was going to perish, he knew Fred would be the one to do so.

John clenched his fists together as he stared over the sand, inexplicably saddened by the faint orange globe that was rising over the horizon. He stole a glance at Fred and Nick, realising that this may be the last time they would be together as a group. Nick could probably make it out of the desert but John knew he would fall only hours after Fred. It was odd to think that just a couple of hours ago everything was different, that they lived in a blissfully ignorant world. However they were paying for their ignorance now.

"It's alright, Fred," Nick reassured, patting a very pale Fred on the back. He looked on into space, not hearing one of the reassurances given. "We'll get out of here."

"How, Nick?" John asked sadly. "We can only travel at night," he looked at Fred solemnly, already grieving for his friend. "And I don't think he'll last that long."

"Water," he pleaded weakly.

John turned away, scrunching up his eyes at the sight of his best friend's torment. Chemical x, as they had immediately determined upon discovery, was highly toxic and was lethal to living cells. Adam had reacted strangely to this news but John had no idea he was planning this.

Determined to find a silver lining, John ran over Adam's speech, scrutinising it for any weakness. He hit something. Adam's gloating could be his downfall. He had wanted them to suffer by leaving Nick and himself to die in the desert after witnessing the death of their friend. However, although not in top shape they could still make it out of the desert, and they had the energy to take Fred with them. If they had to carry him, they would until they made it out.

Another fact that Adam had let slip was a very important one and could result in their lives being saved. John couldn't help but ponder if subconsciously Adam didn't want them to die and allowed the information to escape before he even realised. He claimed that they had trailed down the south of the desert on the edge, only then did they venture into the centre. If John did his sums correctly, he determined that they mustn't have been as deep in the desert as perhaps they thought and that all they needed to do was go in the right direction to reach the town. 

A harsh cough on Fred's part though seemed to shatter all of his hopes. The injection he received should have killed him considering the strength of the poisonous characteristic that they were sure it held. However Fred was still fighting. Granted he was a lot weaker, feeble almost, finding walking and talking an exhausting task. He was sweating heavily and his face was so pale that John thought death would come and claim him anytime now.

He wouldn't let the others know that though.

But he was still alive, and he hadn't entered the later stages associated with poisoning.

They had a little time.

Then again what could cure an unknown disease? They had no idea how Fred would react or what would cure it, but he tried his best to dispel such a negative thought. He scolded himself for thinking it. They would cross that bridge when they came to it, but until then they must focus on leaving the desert.

They couldn't move until night time though.

Nick approached him, silently flopping down onto the ground next to John. His features were also worn by the experience and his spirit had not only been dampened, but drowned in a flood of despair.

They remained blissfully silent for a while, both watching as the northern star slowly faded away.

Nick looked back at Fred, his eyes tearful. "Will he make it?"

Of all the questions John didn't want to answer, this was top of the list. He ran over how he would respond. Should he be optimistic? No, the optimism would be misplaced and Nick would see straight through it like a plain glass window. Honest? How could he be truthful if he didn't even know what the truth of the matter was?

The only response he could find within the mangled messages in his mind was, "I don't know."

"We're not going to be able to get out in time," Nick said, now on the verge of breaking into tears. John couldn't blame him, if anything he almost admired him for it. He wanted to cry too, those emotions were too much for his defences but he held them back for the good of the team. They had to remain calm if they wanted to think logically and therefore have a chance of escape.

"It's day time," John noticed. "We can't get anywhere during day time."

Nick sniffed, proceeding to wipe his nose on his sleeve. "We can't wait for Fred to die either," he told John, his voice choking with tears.

They fell once more into that silence that they had grown so accustomed to. Words could never rely the torture they were facing and both of them were far too despondent to start a conversation regarding how soon they were going to die and which one of them, no matter how obvious it may be, would be the first one to go.

Above all one word they couldn't bring themselves to mention was the Pronoun ADAM. Adam had been subject to a lot of unwritten crimes in his life and to a degree John, despite the hatred he held for the maniac, could understand why. No one had ever cared for him during his entire life and this as well as other cases were a desperate cry for help from a man who only wished to be an equal member of his poor, neglectful family. Whether it was by recognition of his skills, or just for being who he was, Adam wanted someone, anyone to turn around and say; "I care." Of course no one ever had. The things he must have done to get attention must have started at a very early age with just a simple prank or two. However, when these acts failed to get the attention he wanted so badly, he was forced to delve deeper and deeper into evil, increasing the intensity of the pranks he played. Now it had reached the stage where Adam was willing to kill to get this compassion and not only that, but enjoy watching the others suffer as he did so. The once naughty little boy had transformed into a full-fledged killer.

Fred would be his first victim.

Yet John couldn't imagine life without his childhood friend who he had admired since the day they met and was filled with a sudden determination that somehow he would save him.

"You know what started this, don't you?" Nick asked suddenly, his body slumped in sadness. "That meteorite."

John opened his mouth to speak, to tell Nick that the meteorite was just the last straw but Nick cut him off. "When he found that meteorite, he changed. He got what he wanted and the minute that happened we became disposable. If we'd never found that meteorite piece, we'd never be in this situation."

"But…"

"I know he said that he was going to keep going until he found the meteorite, but he claimed that if he fell then he would tell us how to escape the desert and we would have gone home before any of this happened."

Having no intention of popping Nick's bubble, John kept his mouth shut. People always felt better as long as they found someone to blame and without being able to blame it on him or Fred, he was left with the meteorite, which, admittedly, did coincide with Adam's sudden mood swing. What Nick failed to realise was that they would have been injured, meteorite or no meteorite, and that the discovery had only pushed an already precariously balanced Adam into the chasm of insanity.

John shook the thoughts from his head as he picked himself up from the sand. The pounding heat was all ready taking effect and he scowled at the sun in contempt before slowly making his way towards Fred.

At first it was if Fred didn't truly realise that John was there, if in fact he even realised where he was. His face was blank and unmoving, that fire that John had always liked about him had been extinguished by the black poison of chemical x. Being a new discovery he wondered if there was a cure for such an ailment and more importantly if they could get it to him in time.

John placed a quivering hand on Fred's shoulder, sighing when the scientist turned his head inaccurately towards him. He smiled as best he could through the pain to convince them that he was fine but they knew better than that.

He was losing too much water through sweat and they had no water to replace it with. They had to get moving or otherwise Fred would dehydrate even further and in his condition he couldn't afford to do that.

However the northern star had vanished behind the rays of the sun and John couldn't determine which way was which. They could have followed Adam if they'd wanted but there was the possibility that he would have deliberately ventured the wrong way just to throw them off target.

"Fred," John started in a low voice. "Fred, it's me John."

"You…look like…a blur to me…" Fred managed, holding tightly onto the last shred of humour in his body. John admired his bravery so much. That even though Fred was likely to die soon, he continued to joke and laugh at his own situation. He was able to smile at the prospect of death.

Now John felt stupid as he was taking Fred's condition far more seriously than he was, but he knew that his friend was disguising his pain for their benefit.

He wasn't one to give up.

But this time, John felt that he would have to.

"Adam's gone," John explained, suddenly realising that Fred may not have noticed in his state.

"Yeah…I guessed as much…the lack of evil…laughter…told…me…but you …know what?"

"What?"

"I could…still kick his…butt in a fight…"

John laughed, amazed at the tremendous courage that his friend was showing. Even if Fred had to pause after every word to catch his breath, he still had a little life left in him.

John smiled wistfully as he placed one hand deep inside one of his pockets. His fingers came to rest on a warm metallic item and he gasped in surprise. He withdrew the object.

It was his watch.

Suddenly John was struck with an idea. He smiled at Fred and brought his palm next to his.

"Fred," John started softly, staring at the gleaming gold metal in the sunlight. "I'm gonna cut you a deal." He picked it up by the wristband and waved it in front of his face. "Ill give you this," he said, gesturing to the swaying metal, "if you don't die on me."

Fred looked up groggily from the sand, a distant expression on his face. He raised one quivering hand towards the swinging metal. He grabbed it, sealing the promise.

"I…promise you that I'll try my best," he said with complete conviction, "I'll…make…it…but if I don't…you can take your half back." 

Above them a star trailed across the sky.

"He didn't leave us any water," Nick told them as if to break their spirits further even if he was just being realistic. "All he left us was that," he said gesturing towards the broken compass. Shards of broken plastic burnt in the sunlight.

Then, to John's surprise, Nick stood up, stumbling towards the broken compass that lay in the sand. He gazed at it for a while before mournfully digging it from its sandy grave, sobbing as he did so.

Fred looked up at John. There was so much he could read from those eyes. The resignation to a fate that they couldn't avoid. The acceptance of death.

John swallowed hard, feeling tears build up in his eyes. He wouldn't, couldn't let his best friend die.

"John," Nick tried, his voice quivering with fear.

John turned idly to see Nick crouched on the sand, hands cupping the compass that Adam had thrown at them before. His features were twisted in shock and on closer inspection his whole body was trembling.

"It still works."

John froze. "What?"

"The compass," Nick breathed, unable to believe it. "It…it still works…"

He rushed over to Nick, swiping the compass from his hands before he had a chance to defend against it. He lifted the compass, and with baited breath, he began to circle slowly.

The needle moved.

"No," John argued almost not wanting to believe it. "It can't work, we saw Adam crush it."

"He broke the casing," Nick explained, a hint of a smile growing on his face as he took back the compass. "The compass itself still works which means…"

"We can get out of the desert." John finished, completely astounded.

They were going to get out of the desert. They were going to escape this hellhole and return to Townsville, and once more, they could save Fred.

"Well what are we waiting for?" John declared, finding an unknown source of energy simply entitled hope. "We have a desert to leave!"

"Yeah!" Nick cried happily. 

John didn't waste another second. He bolted towards Fred, practically throwing his arm underneath his shoulders before heaving him to his feet. He then looked at Nick expectantly, waiting for the command. Nick simply pointed to an indiscernible point on the horizon and it was with a squeak of joy that John realised that was the way Adam had headed before.

"We're going home Fred!" John cried triumphantly, eyes sparkling. His only response was an unintelligible murmur but he didn't care. Soon Fred would be cured, and they would be home!

That was all that mattered.

&**************************************************************************************&

Three days passed and Fred's condition deteriorated every time the sun rose. 

The first day was the best for all concerned, fuelled as they were by a new found hope. Fred was able to walk and his health, although severely damaged in ways that no one truly understood, held up against the unknown virus. This in itself puzzled John. Chemical x was highly toxic and lethal to living cells. It was a narcotic that acted on the central nervous system, attacking the lungs, heart and other internal organs. Fred had already slipped into weak convulsions as he trembled when he walked. However he had yet to become delusional and that, John knew, would be the turning point for their courageous companion. In all intents and purposes he should have been killed on the spot. If not killed then at least a few hours, at most a day after it had been administered. At that point it had nearly been two days and Fred was still walking, talking and holding his own.

Predictably the second day could do nothing more than get worse. Fred collapsed half way through the day and John was forced to carry him. Not only that but the hopeful high had now vanished and moral had mouldered to an all new low. The town was still no where in sight and he couldn't believe that they hadn't reached it yet, even at the ludicrously slow pace at which they travelled. 

The third day had seen an argument between himself and the now edgy Nick, brought on by the piercing rays of the sun. John couldn't even remember how it started never mind what it was about. Minutes later and the fight was forgotten yet it was obvious that the relationship that held Nick and John together had been badly bruised. Fred had started muttering in his sleep to people that John and Nick couldn't see or doubted were even real. He had become delirious. One of the later stages associated with poisoning. It was with a greatly lugubrious spirit that the others realised that they may not be able to escape the desert without all of their members intact, whether it be mentally or physically. Nick continued to navigate but repeatedly looked over his shoulder at the two to check they were both all right.

The night fell soon after, drawing across the sky after a torturous day of hiking. They had got no further it seemed as the desert continued to roll on as if it never intended to stop. 

John was surprised that he was still managing to walk himself. He was the only member of the team who hadn't collapsed so far on the journey and it was with a morbid humour that he joked about his situation now. 

Fred was slung over his shoulder so John was unsure if his friend would hear his witticisms, but he said them anyway if not for Fred's benefit than for his own.

"You make a fantastic weight," he sighed as he jolted Fred into a more comfortable position on his shoulder, "You should apply to the Olympics. You could be the final weight in weight lifting."

His only response was a sickened groan that could have been from the horrible joke, Fred's nausea or a mixture of the two.

Fred was eerily silent only offering a faint groan every now and then as a sign that he was still alive at all much to the others concern. Yet he was still alive. Chemical x hadn't claimed him yet.

"He's fading," John whispered.

Nick stopped ahead of them, waiting for the two to catch up. He realised that progress would be hindered by Fred's injury and was not bitter for it. After all it was not Fred's fault that he was as he was, or his fault that he no longer had the energy to continue. The poison that coursed through his veins was sapping his energy at a frightening rate. Sometimes John thought he was doing nothing more than carrying a corpse.

"I know it's hard," Nick offered kindly when John finally came to rest alongside Nick, "but we have to keep moving. We can't waste any more time."

"I know," John puffed, exhausted. "We'll make it out yet."

Nick looked up at the sky checking the northern star even though they no longer had to. It was almost as if Nick didn't truly trust the compass and relied much more heavily on the glimmering star. The compass did come from Adam and it was this reason that John believed Nick didn't trust it. That or he was just paranoid that something would go wrong. John couldn't blame him for that. Everything that had happened so far had proved him right.

On his back, Fred groaned once more.

With an unspoken agreement they started walking again, side by side as they trudged through layer after layer of sand, fighting hard against both the desert and their own weariness. John decided to cut down conversation to a low, only speaking when he had to for fear of the energy that it demanded to perform. He offered reassurances to Fred, forcing him to speak despite that he could only reply with the sole groan he held in his vocabulary.

It was another half-hour before John realised he wasn't going to make it.

Even if they did get out of the desert, and even if they did find a hospital, they still didn't know how to cure Fred of his sickness. This was a completely foreign virus. It would be wrong of them to assume that a human medicine would work for such chemical. 

But they didn't know that for sure and as long as there was a small chance no matter how insignificant it may seem and how farfetched, they had to at least try.

As they reached the peak of a sand dune, they both stopped for a little breather to calm themselves for the next leg. 

Nick couldn't help but collapse onto his backside and John followed his example, gingerly lowering Fred down as he did so. They would break for a little while before moving on again.

Nick swept a hand over his forehead, flicking off the sweat from the hands afterwards. His breathing was panicked and shallow as he tried to restore the natural balance to his body. 

"The stars are nice," John said for no particular reason. He had thought this since the first night that they were beautiful and he still held that belief. Nick on the other hand, snorted at the glittering gems, turning his head from them in a saddened revulsion.

John turned to him, confused at his reaction. "Nick?" he prodded.

"The meteor came from up there," he snapped, looking at John sharply. 

"You don't still blame the meteor do you?"

"And why not?" he asked, hands on hips, "if it wasn't for the meteor we wouldn't be in this situation." he took a little time to gaze at Fred. "He wouldn't be in this situation."

"But look at them," John argued, "they're beautiful."

Indeed the stars had not lost any of the elegance that they held on that very first night. They appeared to be like scattered gems against the velvet fabric of space. The moon was pulsing with a soft radiance that lit every curve and grain of sand with an unadulterated white. The stars were all different colours too, varying from the beautiful red, to a more tranquil blue, then to a natural green before turning red again. John followed the lines the stars formed. "The Northern star may have saved our life," he whispered to himself, knowing that they had made excellent progress whilst using it. It seemed almost an eternity since he had last done this. It was the night that they discussed having children in the middle of their journey. At that time he held nothing but despair. Now they had hope.

On the very horizon there were a few glittering stars that throbbed with a yellow, almost synthetic light unlike those above. John squinted as he tried to focus on them. If he wasn't mistaken those stars were peculiarly low and they seemed to line up in perfect order. They were very weak though, unlike the shimmering giants above. Some were cut in half.

The intensity of John's gaze had gradually caught Nick's attention and he too turned to look at them. He gasped.

"John…look…"

"I am looking," he replied indignantly. "They're weird."

"No, John," Nick tried again, and, for some strange reason, he started crying. "They aren't stars. That's the town!"

"What!" he cried, snapping his head so he could see Nick. He only nodded, tears of joy streaming down his face and his lips tugged into a genuine smile of joy.

"That's the town. Look. Those are the lights. Remember? They put lights on the edge of the desert."

Then the realisation of what Nick said truly struck home. 

The town.

They'd made it.

No longer could he hold back the emotions within him, and he openly welcomed the return of the positive ones in place of the negative. John too began choking with sobs, flicking his gaze back and forth from Nick to the lights. That's why they seemed synthetic to him, it was because they were.

A swelling, bulging cry exploded from his lips before he could stop it. Not even he could tell if he was laughing or crying, he couldn't care less. He was being exposed to such a dizzying amount of emotions. Fear that the town was not really there. Disbelief that they had found it so quickly. Hope that they would return to normal. But most of all happiness at seeing other human beings.

He suddenly wrapped Nick in a bear hug and the two laughed joyously, congratulating themselves as they did so. 

Fred.

"We have no time to lose!" John declared with renewed vigour as he quickly jumped up and grabbed Fred. "We're getting there tonight."

He heaved the man over his shoulder, silently hoping that it wasn't a mirage and that his sleep deprived mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Nick couldn't contain himself and he rushed to John's side, helping him lift Fred.

"Home time!" Nick called. 

&**************************************************************************************&  
The town was miniature compared to the colossal Townsville but it was a very welcomed sight. The town primarily consisted of a few run down houses that wove in a peculiar pattern over half a mile of land. There was very little electricity and technology present but those that were stabbed the darkness and shouted their presence to all who saw them. 

The duo was almost surprised to notice that the town was still in one piece, and more importantly, exactly the same as before. Their time in the desert had seemed like an eternity when in fact roughly 10 days had passed. They didn't have time to ponder such thoughts. They didn't know the lay about very well but John knew that there was a hospital, although not a very good one, very near them. 

As they darted throughout the maze of back streets, John recognised some of the spots from before his journey began. Each filled him with a silent wonder and a heavy sadness. So much had transpired since then.

"The hospital has a helipad," Nick informed him as he sluggishly jumped over a fallen chair. "We'll be taken to the hospital in the big city. It's Fred's best chance."

John nodded. They had, at Nick's insistence checked out the local health care facilities because Nick refused to shut up until they did. They had had to practically drag Adam along at the time, but they found that the hospital or a building with a cold compress as it was more accurately described, had a helipad where many patients, especially severely injured ones such as Fred, were taken. It was something they had noted with more than a little panic. The guide had merely laughed at them, proceeding to inform them that there was usually a helicopter pilot on standby and that the actual journey to a far superior hospital in a near by city would only take up to half an hour.

The hospital was their only chance. That they both knew. 

The desert may have seemed endless, but the town was just as bad as the labyrinth of back streets continued to break into smaller and smaller pieces. No longer did an endless, unchanging sea of sand confuse them instead the intricate passages that circled every single home did. Luckily Nick knew the way, at least that's what he claimed. John couldn't get to that helipad soon enough.

None of the surrounding area looked particularly familiar. He recognised a few odd places but none of the new areas where they were now running through inspired any memories. John didn't want to ask his companion if he really did know the way or if he was just saying that to make him feel better but he felt that he would have to.

Nick disappeared behind another sand-damaged house. John followed him, preparing to ask the question when a very welcomed sight stopped him.

The hospital.

It was only a small building in reality with a very worn Red Cross above the door. However, to the very left of the building lay the sand-coated helipad. At that moment in time the most beautiful thing John thought he would ever see was not just that square slab of cement, but the helicopter on top of it. The stars, a newborn baby, the sunrise or set had nothing on that helicopter. It was beautiful.

Seeing the opportunity, Nick sprinted ahead practically running into the door. He immediately began hammering viciously upon it, screaming to the high heavens as he did so.

"Open up!" he screamed over the pounding as John came to a stop close to the door. 

"Emergency! Open up!"

John joined in just for the hell of it. Even Fred who was massively delirious by this point and had regaled them on theories regarding why the triangle cities had to hide the royal sponge from him had a go. Although immediately after he demanded to know why Nick wouldn't tell him the secret and then proceeded to ask John if he was the butler to the castle.

"Hurry up!" John cried, now very worried about Fred and not particularly wanting to be called a butler again.

They heard a faint voice from the other side door. Eventually the door was clicked open causing a still thrashing Nick to almost punch the poor home keeper in the face. Instead he had to settle for falling in through the door and landing with a nauseating thud on the ground.

The person was no one they had ever seen before from the last visit to the crumbling building and did not look like a resident of the town. It was a man with a very stubble chin and short grey hair that stuck out from underneath his leather cap. He was not dressed in typical desert attire but instead was dressed in light denim jeans that had been warn down over the years. He wore a very loose fitting leather jacket and atop his head was a pair of goggles.

"WHAT!" he screamed at the fallen Nick, bending down especially so he could yell it in his face. Nick quickly picked himself up, spitting out sand that he had swallowed. 

"We need to get to the big hospital in the big city, pronto."

The uniformed man yawned extravagantly. "Not again."

He turned to look at Fred and John, not seeming to care about their predicament. "Do I have to?"

They all shot freezing looks towards the man. Even Fred managed to scowl although if it was aimed at him or a figment of his imagination was another matter.

The man sighed in annoyance. "Alright, I'll get the helicopter started."

He nudged his way past them and headed towards the helipad muttering bitterly as he did so. "Honestly, that's the second time I've had to come out tonight. I wait all year for something to happen and then it all comes raining down in one fair swoop." And then they couldn't hear him anymore.

Nick turned to John, signalling that they should follow him. After a few hesitant moments they did so, clumsily navigating around the outer wall of the 'hospital'. John noticed with concern that Nick was using it for support.

"He's tired," he whispered to himself.

&*************************************************************************************&

The helicopter was the most beautiful thing that John had ever, and was certain, would ever see in his life. He didn't care if the blades were a bit rusted, or that the door was held on by a piece of string. Neither did he care that there was barely enough room to fit in the patient as they discovered when Fred was lay down to rest on the cold, metal surface. Nick and himself were forced to squeeze in on the sides, cramming themselves painfully against the jagged edges. He didn't care that the helicopter was struggling to start and that the strange man warned them they could plummet to the ground at any moment. None of this he cared about. If this was the only way to get Fred to the hospital than they had to take it.

Then they both heard one of the most beautiful words in existence.

"There's some water back there if you want it."

Nick and John had never moved so fast as they both rocketed, albeit rather clumsily as they tripped over the rubbish and assortment of tools on the helicopter, towards the dripping water sack that was tied on one of the more evident metal protrusions. They seized it, proceeding to open the water skin then thirstily drink as if it was an intoxicating wine that they had to have more of. Both of them drank heavily, slurping the precious water in heavy quantities. They didn't care that they must have looked like pigs in front of a trough, they just wanted that water.

Suddenly John stopped drinking, as the water skin became low. He put a hand to stop Nick advancing any further also, proceeding to then grab one of the discarded cups, cleaning the inside of it with a piece of cloth. He then dipped the cup into the water and turned back to Fred.

"Here you go, buddy," John said as he dripped the water into Fred's mouth. He drank the majority although a little was spilt.

"Triangle cities," he murmured and then drifted off to sleep.

John sat back against the cold metal, suddenly pensive. The run from the desert to the hospital then to the helicopter had been frighteningly fast. It was true that just over a few hours ago they were still stumbling blindly in the desert with quickly fading hope. Now they were on board the helicopter and just half an hour away from the hospital that would save Fred's life.

An overwhelming sense of exhaustion washed over John then. He looked up at Nick who also seemed exhausted and was now cuddled up against the wall, listening to the beating of the propellers above.

"Nick," he said slowly, "we did it."

"I know," he replied in the same way. "We beat the odds."

John turned his head to the side, gazing out of the cracked windows. The sand dunes of the Toman desert were fading slowly away as the helicopter soared away from them. "Goodbye desert," John whispered. "I won't miss you one bit."

The desert faded away in the darkness.

"We'll be at your precious hospital soon," the man called from ahead of them, shifting his head ever so slightly so he could see at least one party member.

"Good," Nick sighed.

They were really going home. All the torture they had faced was officially over. They had endured the desert, challenged fate and won.

"We' re safe."

Suddenly the helicopter jolted to the right, knocking all of them off guard. They could physically feel the helicopter descending at a frightening rate. The unmistakable noise of a rapidly falling helicopter confirmed their fears. John and Nick screamed. 

Then they were brought back level again, leaving a deeply breathing Nick and John, wide eyed with fear, shaking in the back. The man chuckled in the cockpit. "Well, I wasn't expecting THAT! But nothing to worry about hey?"

He turned to see two very frightened men staring back at him.

"Don't worry, it does that ALL the TIME!"

"I didn't hear that," Nick tried to convince himself, clamping his hands over his ears in case he were to continue. Thankfully he finished with a ridiculing laugh before returning his concentration onto the matter at hand.

Despite the scare he still felt tired. They hadn't really slept for a while now. Taking one last look at the town below him, John watched all of their troubles disappearing into the darkness.

In front of them the helicopter pilot merely scoffed, ramming another doughnut that had fur growing on it into his mouth. He smiled as the thing touched his tastebuds. 

"Yep. We'll be there soon enough, mark my words, that's if this baby can make it that is."

When no one replied, he was forced to take a quick glimpse at his cargo. The others were now fast asleep, or in a coma, he couldn't tell. He snorted in disgust "God. Aren't you people rude!? You're just as bad as my last patient. Didn't get a word out of him."

Again no one replied but that was the last thing John heard before a luxurious sleep claimed him.

&****************************************************************************************&

A strange light was burning the back of Johns' eyelids and he turned his head to try and escape it so he could return to his peaceful slumber. However the light seemed to follow him and it was with a rather annoyed growl that he woke up.

At first the light blinded his vision and it was rather hazy from the sleep, no matter how little, he had received. He rose his hands to his eyes, rubbing them with his fists. He blinked several times as the world slowly came into focus.

Gradually he sat up in his bed to get a better look at his surroundings. A needle was implanted deep within his arm and a tube ran snake like onto the floor and to a metal stand where a huge bag of liquid hung. An IV unit he realised with a start. He was in hospital. Another thing he noticed about himself was the lack of any desert clothes. Instead he was in a considerably thinner gown that, to his embarrassment, felt more like a dress than anything else.

He was staring at a light bulb, which would explain what woke him. It ran in a tiny trail over a dotted, blue roof that was very high above him. He turned his head to one side, surprised to find this simple task rather difficult. There was another wall, no a curtain of deep blue hung from a silver railing. He followed the curtain discovering that it surrounded his entire bed. He could hear the soft murmuring of voices from one side of his curtain, and from the other a constant beeping which he presumed to be from a heart monitor. For a panicked moment he wondered if that was Nick, or Fred. Now he had thought it he couldn't get it out of his mind. He had to know who that person was. He lifted the heavy white cotton sheets from off himself as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He dangled his legs over the side, carefully lowering his feet onto the cold tiled floor. He struggled, managing a few paces before his legs buckled underneath him and he collapsed. The needle tugged at the sudden jolt causing him to cry out in pain.

Immediately the front curtain was thrown back. John looked up to see a very dissatisfied nurse glaring at him. He smiled sheepishly. "Um, little help?"

She obliged although it was obvious by the rough way that she helped him back into bed that she didn't care too much for him at this point. She quickly threw the covers back over him, tucking in the odd bits and ends.

"Um, miss?" John hesitated as he nursed his arm, which still stung from the fall. "I came here with some friends and I was just wondering…"

"Friends?" she quizzed, uninterested. "Oh them. Yeah. They're in the next ward."

Something in her tone got to John on a level that he didn't like one bit. "The next ward?"

"Yeah," she replied. 

"Well are they ok?"

She looked at him, tired of the game of trivial pursuit. "I don't know."

"Well can I see them?"

She sighed, annoyed that she now had to go and do another pointless task. "What are their names?"

"Frederick Dom and Nicholas Morlon."

"I'll go see, shall I?"

She disappeared behind the curtain and John allowed a short but uncertain sigh of relief. The person to his right didn't seem in such great condition. The constant noise of the heart monitor revealed as much and luckily it wasn't one of his friends. However he had no guarantee that Nick and Fred weren't in the same situation in the other ward. And why were they in separate wards anyway? Fred he could understand, but Nick...

Was something wrong?

Minutes later the same nurse appeared, this time incessantly chewing some bubble gum. She returned to her previous activities, fluffing the pillow and checking the IV unit before she even realised that John was staring at her intently, patiently waiting for the answer to his question.

"Oh yeah," she replied when she noticed his stern gaze. She pulled out a piece of paper from her blue dress and simply read out whilst still chewing the bubble gum. "Nicholas Morlon is in ward 7, you're in ward three and he's been treated for exhaustion, malnutrition and some other stuff the same as you…"

"Then why are we in different wards!" John demanded. The Nurse looked up, thoroughly annoyed at the question. They held a brief staring contest before the nurse gave way. "Bed shortages," she said simply. "And the other one, Fre Dom."

"That's Fred Dom," he corrected.

"Yeah, him," she replied nonchalantly, quickly looking up from the scribbled writing to monitor his reaction. His features remained unchanging still locked in that expectant, demanding stare.

"He's was taken to ward two to be treated for poisoning and the other stuff that you were."

"Is he alive?"

"Probably."

"What do you mean, probably?" He snapped. 

"Alright he is. Look, Mister," the nurse seethed angrily. "We've got a lot on right now. We've had all sorts of people come in here. Scientists like yourself…"

"And what happened to them?" He interrupted.

She humphed at another rude interruption. "Everyone knows what happened to them. You went with them after all."

"Well actually we went on our own separate expedition," he said, wondering what on earth could happen to a group of scientist who were both well prepared and had an experienced guide on their side.

"That worked didn't it," she scolded, gesturing towards the bandages and the needle that stuck out of his arm. She walked to the bottom of the bed, grabbing the clipboard that hung from there as she did so. She then pulled out the small visitor's chair from besides his bed and sat down on it as she ticked unseen boxes on the clipboard.

"Anyway these scientists got lost in the desert didn't they, and in the middle of a sandstorm too. We've got about 30people of your sort stuffed in here. Most of em we don't even know their names. Didn't have any name tags you see. The one next door to you is a prime example."

"He was caught in a sandstorm?" He asked in disbelief. She paused, looking at the curtain as if she could see through it. She hushed her voice. "No. Someone attacked him. Got stabbed quite a lot. An odd case considering all his valuables like money and things were left untouched. Strange that no one bothered to take his stuff." She sighed, annoyed. "No one even knows his name. He had no I.D on him so we just put him in here."

"He sounds pretty ill."

"His plight is none of your concern," she scolded.

"Then why did you tell me…"

"Enough questions!" She shouted. She sat up from the chair and tied the clipboard back to the bottom of his bed.

"Can I see my friends soon?" he asked hopefully, realising that the nurse had finished her job and was going to make a run for it.

"I'll go fetch one of them if I have to."

"You mean Nick?"

"Yeah."

"He's awake."

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"Whatever."

She once again vanished from behind the curtain then in a cry that made him cringe she yelled "Get Nicholas Morlon here!" then he listened to her footsteps trail away.

&*****************************************************************************************&

Whilst waiting for his friend to arrive, John busied himself with studying the ceiling for some reason fascinated by the lines and dots above him. He followed them with his gaze, trying to make out some sort of picture. Unavoidably his thoughts returned to what the Nurse had said and something struck him as confusing.

The nurse had claimed that the scientists had been caught in a sandstorm. They had never encountered one and they were in there for over a week. If they other scientists had been exposed to it then surely they would have been also. 

Another thought struck him soon after, once again about Adam. He had blamed Nick for missing the guide when truly he was the one who made the decision to head back to town and get more water. Adam could hardly kill an entire group of thirty odd people now could he? He must have been planning to miss the guide and go with the bulk of other scientists. Nick was just a lucky coincidence and it gave him both the opportunity to venture on his own and take Nick's water supply without any arousing any suspicion.

He was crafty; John had to give him that.

He heard the curtain being drawn. John was practically euphoric when they trembled. He looked down, expecting to see Nick standing there with a smile on his face but was met with an unfamiliar doctor and a wheelchair.

"You wanted to see your friend."

__

Oh no, John thought. They hadn't bought Nick; they were taking John to him. Nick couldn't walk? Was he in a coma, or worse? _Oh god no…_

The doctor approached John, wheeling the chair in as he did so. He stopped gesturing to the open space. John couldn't help but stare at the wheelchair in fear wondering why his friend couldn't come to see him. The other nurse claimed he was awake, but then again she didn't know the difference between a living person and a dead one. What mediocre nursing course did she attend?

John struggled into the wheelchair with the doctor's assistance and was left feeling hollow and empty inside.

He might have lost Fred and now Nick too.

He couldn't handle that.

Indeed it was with great effort that he contained his queries, deciding that it would be best to remain calm. This in itself was a difficult task for the scientist who couldn't get the image of himself attending his friends' funerals out of his head.

He smacked his forehead with his palm in an attempt to rid himself of these images and was rewarded with a speculative "hmmm" from the doctor.

"You ready to go?"

John stilled his breathing, fighting so hard against the swelling fear. "Yes," he said with conviction. "I'm ready."

&***************************************************************************************&

The numbers three and seven were relatively close together considering that there were wards 30 and 34 to contend with. However John felt that he might as well have been on the opposite side of the world as he was pushed through the hospital. Apparently ward seven was up one floor. So they had travelled in the lift only to resume the indeterminable path once more, squeezing past the odd abandoned patient now and then. John did see a pattern emerging from his travels and this was what severely worried him. As each ward number increased, the amount of beds left just outside of the ward increased with it. One corridor outside ward six was practically clustered with beds and they were forced to find an alternate route to get to their desired location.

If ward six was bad, ward seven was even worse. 

The corridor was choking with beds. There was no room what so ever for the wheelchair to make it through so John suggested to the doctor that he walk the rest of the way. However the doctor refused, condemning him for even thinking of leaving his hospitality before disappearing with a complacent John in tow through another darkened corridor.

What should have been a ten-minute trip, according to the doctor, became a half-hour trip instead, mixed with the irritation factor of having to detour in every corridor. John wondered whether many of these people were scientists just like he was, but dispelled the thought as soon as it came. There were far too many people here for that and he only thought around fifty at most would come.

The corridor narrowed as they were forced to weave around even more beds and rubbish. Eventually though they pulled into the ward.

At fist glances it looked identical to his own. In many respects it was just another corridor except this time it was much larger. The row of curtains acted as walls and at the end of the corridor was a small desk where a couple of bored doctors were throwing darts at the board. John even had to duck as one of the less observant ones continued to throw the darts when he wheeled past. The doctor looked at him as if it was his fault before resuming the game again. It wasn't hard to believe that this hospital had its fill of problems when the doctors played darts across a busy walkway.

Eventually they drew to a halt alongside the middle curtain. The doctor swept it open.

Again it was exactly the same as his own except one important detail.

Nick was the one in the bed.

John sighed with relief, happy to see that his friend was alive. Better than that, he was awake. 

Nick looked up from the book that he was reading. When he saw John he smiled, quickly slapping the book closed.

"John!"

The doctor wheeled John into the cubicle before drawing the curtain, probably to go off and play darts with the others whilst they waited for them to finish.

John wheeled himself forward until he was directly opposite the bed. Nick, like him, had a needle protruding from his arm. However the ginger haired man was disturbingly pale. John wondered if he looked as bad as that.

"John, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied, smiling. "I thought I might have lost you. This weird nurse told me that you were coming to see me."

Nick nodded, his lifeless hair falling limply across his shoulders. "I wanted to, but you can't be guaranteed that someone won't steal your place, so I asked if you could be bought up here. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind!" John insisted strongly. "I just thought you might be in a coma or something."

"Nah, all though we've both been out of it for a while."

John stopped. He hadn't put much importance into the time since they had arrived at the hospital. But when did he arrive there? He didn't remember. The last memory he had was being in the helicopter, the next thing he knew he was in hospital. 

"How long?"

Nick smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Two days."

"WHAT!" John cried so loudly that he almost fell out of the wheelchair. He sat back again, worried that he couldn't risk another fall and therefore more injuries.

"I was out for two days. You were out for two and a half," he paused, then gave a soft chuckle, " I always said you were a heavy sleeper."

"Two and a half days?" John admonished then snapped out of it. "What about Fred?"

This time Nick became silent. He slowly unwound his arms from his smug position. His face became downcast and his eyes turned away from John.

__

No…Fred couldn't be… Please god no…

"I have to be honest with you John,"

__

Here it comes, he thought,_ the news that I never wanted to hear. _

"I don't know."

He allowed himself a sigh of relief. Not knowing at least had the possibility of a good side.

"Did you ask the doctor?" He said trying to hide the relief.

Nick shook his head, still refusing to look John in the eye. "I asked a couple of doctors about him, but none of them will tell me anything. They keep jabbering on about how I should worry about myself right now."

John shakily stood up from the wheelchair. "Are you alright? Is something else wrong?"

"No. They say I'm weak. That doesn't mean I can't see my friends."

Nick watched John's attempt to stand fail when he collapsed back into the wheelchair.

"You're still weak too," he observed.

John allowed himself a few deep breaths; the exertion on his body had been too much.

"I want to know if Fred's alright," he said stubbornly, still panting as he did so. "I've had the same nonsense thrown at me as you have. One nurse didn't even know if he was alive or not."

"You mean he's dead!"

"No!" John shot, realising he should have explained a lot better. "This nurse doesn't have a clue. I can't seem to get any sense out of anyone here."

Nick leant back in his bed uncertainly as if he was expecting John to make some radical announcement that would need him to be up and running again. 

"You're talking about Doris someone aren't you? Yeah, she doesn't really know what's going on but you can't blame her. I don't know whether you've noticed how many people are in this hospital."

"She told me they were scientists," John told him, raising a hand to his head to still his headache. "They were the ones we were originally going to go with. They got caught in a sandstorm apparently, but we were in the desert and the sandstorm didn't effect us."

"Maybe we avoided it," Nick contemplated.

"Either way neither of us know what happened to Fred."

John looked away to the curtain in an attempt to hide the pain he knew was so evident in his face and voice. "He could be…" he turned back to Nick, determined. "We have to find out what happened to him."

"But how?" Nick asked, "if no one will tell us anything?" 

He ran the question over in his mind. They could hardly force the doctors to tell them where Fred was and even if they asked they probably wouldn't get the answer they wanted.

"It's not like we can just go to see him. We don't even know where he is."

"That's right, we don't know…wait a minute." He amended. "Yes we do."

"What?"

"That nurse," he clicked his fingers together in an attempt to remember her name, "Doris. She told me that Fred was in ward two."

"That's miles away," Nick complained, sinking back into his bed. A scolding look from John changed his mind. "So we'd better get up and go!"

The curtains were thrown open suddenly and the nurse, Doris was standing with a petulant look on her face. 

"So much for that."

"You can see your friend later," she replied harshly, eyeing both of them suspiciously. She grabbed John's wheelchair and began pushing him away before the two could concoct more schemes.

"I guess I'll see you later then," John called as Nick disappeared behind the folds of the curtain.

"Later!" he cried.

&***************************************************************************************&

During the long journey back to his room, John was subject to some very boring droning from the nurse Doris. He wondered why she had come to collect him when the doctor was the one who had brought him up in the first place. However this question was answered when they were wheeled past the front desk and the doctor from earlier was tied with the one who had almost stabbed him before and were facing off for the title of darts champion. It really disturbed him to think that Fred was at these peoples mercy and he began to wonder if perhaps they should have stayed in the desert after all. The incompetence of the doctors so far had been nothing less than frightening. As Doris continued to twitter on about some unknown topic (John was no longer bothering to pretend to listen) he thought about the way people had been towards him since his arrival. He had to admit that he had seen no sign of medical incompetence if you discounted the corridors full of patients. His injuries had been expertly tended to as had Nick's and it seemed like a good enough hospital. It was the doctors' personalities that upset him. They were so unsympathetic towards him, but they probably had thousands of cases like him and were bored of it. Why should they make a special exception juts for him?

Why?

Because their friend had been poisoned with an alien virus.

Doris wheeled him into the lift, positioning him at the back whilst she tapped the floor number. She didn't seem bothered that people were signalling her to hold the lift, if anything she increased her speed. John didn't particularly want to stop her either. He wanted to get back to the solitude of his cubicle to mull things over.

They were acting awfully cagey about Fred. John was even beginning to think it was some sort of conspiracy. Wouldn't they have asked John and Nick about the strange substance to see if they knew anything about it? Partially he was glad that they hadn't as it wasn't an easy thing to believe never mind explain. Yet surely such a foreign virus would be detected?

The lift door pinged open and once again Doris began pushing the pensive scientist throughout the hospital. In fact he was so deep in thought that he didn't truly wake up until he was back at his own ward. Doris had silenced, finally, and was now currently clicking her tongue as she gazed from curtain to curtain.

"Which one was it, again?" she asked herself. She stopped in front of one of the curtains. A soft beeping was coming from behind it.

John realised that this was the wrong cubicle and was about to voice this discovery to the ever-docile Doris when she snapped open the curtain.

As John suspected, it was not his room, but the one to the right of his that held the stabbed victim. A heart monitor was beeping weakly. John was shocked at how much equipment was littered around the bed. So much so that there was barely enough room for a very thin person to fir through to see to the actual patient.

"So much equipment."

"It's keeping him alive," Doris explained icily.

John leant forward in the wheelchair, using the armrests to get a better view of the actual patient. A family of wires ran up to patient and the face was almost half-covered in bandages. John also noticed that one machine was helping the man breath, keeping him alive as Doris had so elegantly put it.

He dared to raise himself higher, drawn by an inexplicable curiosity. 

To think that just a few machines was all that was keeping the man from death, such a weak link to life.

And then John's face visibly paled as he finally got a good look at the patient's face.

The man didn't look alive at all. The only thing that suggested otherwise was the mechanic rising and falling of his chest.

"We think he's not going to make it. Came in a day before you did."

John sunk to his chair, a thick nausea sweeping over him. He could once again taste the vomit rising in his throat and he swallowed it back, fighting against the shock and horror of the spectacle ahead of him. The nurse noticed, ducking down so she could see his face. 

He ignored her.

After a few hurried breaths he trembling, raised again. He continued until once again he could see the man's face.

"Oh my God, " John whispered, "Adam."

&******************************************************************************************&

Doris had wheeled John out of the cubicle pretty quickly when she realised that something was wrong. She had coldly prompted him to tell her what was bothering him but the man in his shock filled state could only murmur that he knew the man in the bed before silencing and reverting back to the sanctuary of his thoughts.

Now he was alone in his cubicle, the muffled noises of the hospital drowned out by the constant beeping of the heart monitor next door. 

In all honesty he didn't know why he had reacted so badly to discovering Adam next door when he should have been more concerned about his best friend. Part of him told him to be happy, perhaps even relieved that Adam was now hospitalised, fighting for a life that was slipping away. Another part defended him to the very end, screaming that it wasn't Adam's fault and that he should forgive him for what he'd done to them. These conflicting emotions were battling fiercely, pulling him from one excruciating length to another until he no longer knew which way to turn. He dreaded to think how he would react to seeing Fred, his best friend, if he reacted this badly to his supposed enemy. 

He swayed back and forth in his foetal position. His eyes stared blankly at a point only he could see, far beyond that of the sterile blue mattress where they lay rest.

Adam.

He tried in vain to chase the memories from his head but failed miserably as they regrouped and came back more powerful than ever. 

His mouth had become dry like the desert. His eyes haunted. His mind numb. The only thing John Utonium could focus on was the relaxing rocking of his body.

He told himself to get a grip, to take charge of the situation. He didn't. He couldn't. He just sat, rocking, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Adam's room was so devoid of life. 

So empty…

except for the stacks of confusing machines that loomed over his body. Beeping. A pathetic simulation of a heart beat. It was so synthetic, so unnatural, so weak.

It was his only hope of survival.

Adam may have left them for dead in the desert, he may have tried to kill them and may try it again. But Adam was a human being and he wasn't solely responsible for the way he had turned out.

To think that just a simple flick of a switch could end Adam's life just like that.

One switch.

That's all it would take.

And what about Fred? Was he all right? Was he even alive? What if he was in the same condition as Adam? A machine, no longer a human but at the mercy of the competence of the metal lumps that surrounded him. Would he survive?

And Nick? Should he tell Nick that Adam was alive? That Fred may not be? That the potential murderer of his best friend was lying helpless next door?

His darkened cell was lit up as the curtains were forced open and an unfamiliar doctor stepped into his space. He closed the curtains behind him. He turned.

"You know him," he said bluntly, not wasting any time.

John agreed. The doctor sat down.

"How?"

John looked towards the doctor, his eyes shimmering as he heard the arguments from long ago.

John continued rocking, fiercely scolding himself for lacking any confidence and restraint towards his emotions. This only succeeded in making him feel even more insecure, and steadily his rocking grew more violent.

"I…" he started, managing to cease the swaying if only for a moment. "His name is Adam Smith. He was one of our team, but we got separated in the desert. What happened to him?" John didn't notice at that time but he spoke in a monotone, detaching himself as far from this plane of reality as he could in order to escape the pain. He didn't care about Adam he told himself. He didn't care period.

The doctor shuffled a little in the old plastic chair as he leaned closer in order to hear the lifeless words of his patient.

"He was stabbed," the doctor told him. "We don't know who by but we think it was intentional."

The doctor waited for John to pick up on the hint. He didn't. "Aren't you interested in Adam's welfare?"

"I'm more concerned about Fred," he replied, eyeing the doctor with hatred. "How is he?"

"We'll take you to him after we sort out this little mess."

John thanked him.

"Now about Adam." He paused. "He's in bad shape as you've seen."

"What's the damage?" John asked. He didn't care about the answer. His mind was working on automatic. The only thing he could truly hear were the words _"Let them watch their friend die, let them mourn for him, and then let them wait in the desert with the knowledge that they were about to go the same way."_

The doctor didn't notice. He had too many things on his own plate. "From the nature of the stab wounds it doesn't look self inflicted. He was stabbed in the back, almost severed his spine."

John expected bile to rise in his throat. Instead he felt increasingly hollow.

The doctor continued. "We know that someone took him to the helicopter pilot that lives on the outskirts of the desert…"

__

"Honestly, that's the second time I've had to come out tonight."

"You're just as bad as my last patient. Didn't get a word out of him."

"No one knows who did this." The doctor turned to the curtain. "We had to fight hard to save him. He lost a lot of blood, but," he paused, "not that much. He should be healing but it's almost as if he doesn't want to come back. He doesn't want to fight for his life."

He turned back to John who blinked. "He won't get better if he doesn't fight. We nearly lost him on more than one occasion. The others have been told to keep his situation a secret, but considering that you know him."

"Why keep it a secret?" John asked as he stabbed a gentle finger on the mattress.

"Because it was an odd case. We found claw marks all over him. Cuts, bruises, knife wounds, everything you can imagine. They went all out against this guy but who did it and why we don't know."

__

"No. Someone attacked him. Got stabbed quite a lot. An odd case considering all his valuables like money and things were left untouched. Strange that no one bothered to take his stuff." she sighed, annoyed. "No one even knows his name. He had no I.D on him so we just put him in here."

****

Strange that no one bothered to take his stuff.

"No one…took his stuff?" John asked, a little feeling now pulsing through him. "His backpack. There was a meteorite that we found in there. It's still there?"

The doctor looked down at his lap. "A witness said that he was attacked by some sort of lobster creature wearing a pink tutu and a human." He paused. "He must have been mistaken. Anyway. The witness saw this man search Adam's body and backpack. He ran off with some water containers and a huge rock apparently. Now I can understand the water containers, especially considering water is the gold around here, but why they would take a stupid rock is beyond me but the guy seemed pretty happy."

"Did you catch him?"

"No. He escaped and the witness took him to the helicopter pilot to bring him here for treatment."

He didn't notice John's sudden retraction into himself at this news. "We'll take you to see your friend Fred soon," he continued, oblivious. "If that's alright with you?"

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared in a silent challenge at the doctor for a moment as he fidgeted with the pens in his pocket. John couldn't believe it. Someone attacked Adam to get the meteorite and the chemical x? But that was impossible, wasn't it? They were the only ones who knew of the discovery and the importance of the chemical so how did this other person know that they had it? They attacked for the chemical x and nothing else. But why? Of course it was a new discovery but surely it wasn't important enough to kill for.

"Can I…can I see him now?"

John looked up hopefully, wanting to be anywhere but trapped in the ward where he would be subjected to that beeping. To hide for only a moment. It was time to see Fred, the person he hadn't seen for days, and possibly would not see again.

The doctor picked himself up from the seat. He pushed it back to the side.

"I'll get the wheelchair."

&*******************************************************************************************&

John was too lost in his thoughts to worry about the patients that passed him by, groaning in pain at the injuries that had yet to be treated by the badly overworked staff. 

The doctor had a lot of trouble getting John into the wheelchair simply because he had yet to truly recover all of his strength. His whole body felt numb. It was almost as if he wasn't in his body anymore and it was a pleasant sensation to be in a place where the pain, torment and anguish could no longer reach him. It seemed like this was happening to someone else entirely. Not him. Someone else who could cope with these emotions. But not him.

His eagerness to see Fred was his only empowerment as he stumbled towards the old fashioned wheelchair. The doctor seemed quietly impressed by his strength but had kept quiet about it, as he did now as they slowly reached ward two.

John's heart slowed to a cold, dreadful, pace. His fists clenched tightly around the armrest as he travelled through the ward. He caught the odd glimpse of a patient hidden beneath a copious amount of bandages, scowling as they fought their pain with very little success. Unlike his ward there were people everywhere and it was unnaturally silent. Not a word was spoken between the doctors in a sign of respect to the suffering patients like they were already dead. The air was intolerantly noiseless apart from the odd choking sobs coming from an indeterminable place within the ward.

He held his breath when the wheelchair came to a shuddering halt outside one of the cubicles. The doctor walked around the chair.

He pulled the curtain back.

"No…"

&******************************************************************************************&

John would have yelled at the doctor for taking him around in circles had it not been the worn "Ward 2" sign that hung loosely on the opposing wall. The room was identical to Adam's in every conceivable way. The machines, the lack of any sign of life, the small space left for any human to get near. It was just like a replay of only a few moments ago except this time he knew the person he was coming to see.

The doctor silently stepped back.

John rolled himself forward. He stopped in front of the bed. He stood up. Steadily he picked himself up from the wheelchair, grabbed a hold of the railing that raced around his bed and gingerly wove his way through every machine. He paused when he reached the top of the bed. He looked down at Fred. Fred didn't respond. 

Gently he reached a quivering hand forward, intending to take the cover from his face. He stopped just short, his heart racing; beads of sweat forming on his brow. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He moved forward.

He pulled back the sheet. 

John was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He half sat half fell onto the chair that had been crammed into the room. He raised a trembling hand to his forehead. He couldn't take his eyes off of Fred even though he wanted to, drawn by some morbid curiosity.

Fred.

He was in the same condition as Adam, but worse. His face was almost hidden by the multitude of tubes, each one transporting unknown materials to his body. His chest rose mechanically. His eyes were taped shut. The heart monitor beeped irregularly.

Fred…

The doctor shuffled his feet uneasily, scraping his boots against the tiled floor. He glanced up towards John, watching as he silently gazed at his friend.

"We don't really know what's wrong with him," the doctor confessed looking up apologetically. 

"We found a foreign virus in his bloodstream. It's highly toxic from what we can tell but for some reason it hasn't finished him yet."

John choose to ignore the comment. He silently placed a hand on top of Fred's, inwardly shocked at how cold and lifeless it felt. So limp…

"We're not sure what's happening, but if we don't find out what soon, we'll lose him."

Again his chest rose and fell to the rhythm of the life support machine. The doctor looked around uneasily.

"I'll, uh, leave you with him."

The doctor took one last look at the scene before sweeping the curtain back and leaving.

John sat alone.

He leant forward, tightly entwining his fingers around Fred's as if he could will him back to life. Fred remained unchanging, stony, and lifeless. John closed his eyes tightly, as if by doing so the man in the bed would transform to some stranger. No, he already was a stranger. There was none of that life that John adored. He was empty of laughter, devoid of happiness, he was hollow, a shell of his former self. 

John couldn't help but think of the good times they had had together. The time they were arrested by the police for lewd conduct or the time they entered sports day and came last in everything, but laughed at it at the end of the day not to mention when they were eight years old they ate ice cream until they threw up. Those were some of the happiest times in his life. However they once were happy memories, close, and cheerful. Now they were distant, masked by the power of death. In a word, lost, like Fred.

A soft breathing awoke his attention. He slowly turned to the doctor, eyes burning with unreleased tears. He stood with a clipboard and a complete apathetic expression on his face. His wispy white hair was like a wrinkled curtain on his face, which had sunk with wrinkles.

"John Utonium?" The doctor queried, briefly glancing up from the unseen scribbles.

John remained unnaturally silent, hearing those tones in the doctor's voice. They were so heavily implicative, so, certain of the course of action which had yet to be revealed.

The doctor stepped forward. "I apologise for my colleagues ineptitude. We need to ask a few questions."

"What?" he replied quietly, voice muffled by the blanket his head was buried in.

"Frederick Dom. Does he have any living relatives?"

His stomach churned. "No."

"Brothers? Sisters? Par…"

"I said no!" he cried, his misery making him aggressive.

"Of what relation to this man are you?"

"I am…" he tightened his grip on Fred. "I am his best friend."

The doctor scoffed at the remark. He clicked his pen.

"As you know your friend has been poisoned for several days now. We've tried every anti venom and cure we could get our hands on but none have worked. His condition is deteriorating as you can see and we are left with only one option." He paused, taking a deep breath. "We need your permission to turn off the life support machine."

"You…what…"

"We're sorry Mr Utonium," he apologised, ignoring the choking cries from the man opposite. "We believe it is the kindest thing we can do. The poison administered to him has caused irreparable damage. Even if he does manage to wake up I really don't think his life will be worth living."

"You're going to kill him. You're going to kill my best friend?" his voice was dripping with depression, with desperation but mostly with a lost hope. 

"We believe it is the kind…"

"You don't know what the kindest thing to do is," John interrupted, glaring coldly at the aged doctor. His breath heaved as he spoke and as he waited in silence. "You want me to decide whether my best friend lives or die? You want me to sign his death certificate? You want…"

"His life is over, Mr Utonium," The doctor snapped, "he has nothing left to offer."

John shook his head in disbelief, fighting and losing against the urge to cry sorrowful tears. "He can't die…"

"Excuse me but he can and he will." He turned to look at Fred. "You can free him now before the real suffering occurs or you can wait and watch him suffer." The doctor leant forward. "You can free him from the torment."

The doctor pushed a small piece of paper towards the distressed patient. "You'll need to sign this. You can have till tomorrow otherwise we'll find someone else to take on the burden." 

With that the doctor hastily left the room.

John picked up the piece of paper, crumpling it when he gripped it too tightly. He stared at it as the silent tears dripped onto the paper and made the ink run. This tiny piece of paper was all that was sustaining Fred. That was all that was keeping him alive. They wanted to sign away his life as if it was nothing.

He looked towards Fred, wondering where his friend was. Was Fred suffering as the doctor had claimed? What if he wasn't? He seemed so peaceful as if he was just asleep and was about to wake up, not in the deep coma that was inches away from the line that crossed into death. They wanted him to push him over. 

His friend.

His childhood friend.

No, Fred was more like a brother to him.

Could he live with himself for killing that sole ray of light that lit up the dark in his life?

Could he live with himself if he knew he was the one responsible for truly ending his life?

The answer was…

John didn't know what his friend was seeing if anything or what happened if it came to the very end.

He couldn't say anything to his friend. He couldn't find the words even if Fred wouldn't be able to hear them; he had to say something.

"Fred," he started, donning a synthetic smile that screamed fake under the unbridled tears that flooded down his face. He hesitated. "Nice room you got."

Pathetic.

He tried again.

"Look," the word caught in his throat making it seem nothing more than a harsh cough. Again he found that he couldn't follow up the word with any coherent sentence. John didn't have the strength.

He swallowed hard, his head sinking with an abstract misery. The memories from the past few weeks were flooding over him now in dangerous quantities. His warn spirit was at the mercy of them. The emotions he had locked up in the desert were braking out of their hastily built and fragile prison and were running riot with his thoughts. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he looked up at the ceiling, tears flooding in his eyes. He closed his fists, his eyes, his heart.

Fred…

They had no idea what was going to happen on that early summer morning when Adam first approached them in the university refectory. They had no idea that they would be lost in the desert, an intentional wish by that man, and they had no idea that by the end of it all two of their members would be on life support with the other two unconscious for two whole days. 

All of the suffering, all of the pain was amplified now. The result of a science expedition could not just lose them a few days at university as originally intended, but a very life if not two.

John couldn't help either. He was helpless to aid his dwindling friend from where he sat. The sad thing was that no one could. Chemical x was a foreign virus that no one knew of.

It was too complex to understand.

Maybe Nick was right after all? Maybe it was the meteorite's fault?

He shut of the thoughts from his head. The frightening tangle of questions were becoming more muddled, if that was possible, and he told himself to focus. However, when he tried he could only focus on the pain, the grief, everything.

The fact that he had to pick whether his friend lived, or died.

He looked up at Fred once more. How he wished that he would wake up, just open his eyes, pull out all of the wires and claim "fooled ya!" Fred had done that once and a smile crept across his face when he remembered it. It had been April Fools day and he had poured ketchup all over his leg and pretended to be hurt. John had taken him deadly seriously much to everyone's amusement. But this time Fred wouldn't wipe away the injury and laugh at him. He would gladly pay the expense of humiliation if he could just see his friend smile once more.

Then he knew what to say. "Remember your promise, Fred."

With out any more words to be found within his heart, body, mind or soul, John allowed himself one tiny privilege that he had so far denied himself. 

He cried. Freely.

He continued to cry steadily, slowly but most importantly silently.

All those emotions were flooding out now, onto the paper that would seal a loved one's death, onto the hands that were knotted together by only one's strength. 

It was about half an hour before he cried himself out and the doctor came to take him back to his own cubicle.

Yet as John was wheeled out of Fred's cubicle, that piece of paper hanging loosely from his hand and sitting heavily on his mind, he took one last look at his friend.

Unknown to him, that was the last time he would ever see Fred.

&*********************************************************************************&

To read the rest please visit part four.

Thank you for reading part three.


	4. Default Chapter Title

****

ANGEL DOM: The curse of chemical x

Part Four

Author's note

I'm trusting that you've read the first part first so I won't repeat myself too much here;

1) I cut this down into four parts after more than a few people (not all reviewed) thought it was a little too long. I realised that it is still quite large but it can not be cut down any further. I'm afraid this is as far as this story will ever be cut down by. I ask you to please be patient when reading it. This is Part four of four.

2) Powerpuff girls and all related characters are property of Cartoon Network.

3) My eternal gratitude and supply of Cherry bakewells to **Nicole Sabatti** for being such a fantastic friend. This fan fiction would have never been completed without her help. So thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!! Zoy!

4) I honestly believe that the story goes down hill from here so I'm not going to be surprised if you don't like it. I don't know why I bothered to write that as its completely irrelevant but hey.

&***********************************************************************************&

John was surprised to find Nick waiting for him in his cubicle when he was finally taken back. He was also happy to see that the curtain to Adam's had been closed so Nick, hopefully didn't know about him as of yet.

He smiled as best he could at his friend despite the anguish he felt. However it obviously wasn't enough as Nick picked up on it almost immediately. With a perception that far excelled his usual depth he said, "You've seen Fred."

John dodged the question, not wanting to start crying all over again. Subconsciously he wiped his eyes and hoped that they weren't as red and puffy as before and hid the note under the fabric of his gown. However no amount of effort could remove the permanent frown he wore. He looked around his cubicle with a confused expression, looking for something that he couldn't find. 

"Where's your wheelchair?"

"I walked here," he replied cheerfully and John resented his ignorance. He didn't have to choose whether his best friend would live or die. "I don't need a wheelchair anymore. Besides, I'm getting chucked out tomorrow as are you."

"What!" 

Nick blinked. "The hospital is too full and they need the beds. I don't know what you're complaining about. The sooner you, me, and Fred get out of here the better."

John looked away sadly. "Nick…"

"I can't wait to get home," Nick continued, stars sparkling in his eyes. "I'm going to eat ice cream all day!"

John looked away guiltily, not knowing what to say to his friend. He seemed a lot happier than last time. Perhaps the prospect of getting out of the country was just too appealing for him even if they might not all make it back. Somehow Nick was under the impression that Fred would be up and running soon as if he was only in hospital to be treated for minimal injuries. John didn't want to be the one to tell him that it was possible if not certain that Fred wouldn't be coming back with them.

"Nick," John started and his tone carried such a heavy weight of authority that Nick immediately ceased his babbling. "Fred is on life support. They say they can't do anything for him and that it's only a matter of time before he…" he stopped, clenching his fists. "We have to expect the worst, Nick."

Nick looked down sadly. "I was just trying to be optimistic."

"Don't be," John warned, setting his jaw. "There's something else too."

This caught Nick's attention. He looked up at John, his face a picture of confusion. Now was the time. John took a deep breath, intending to relay the information of the person next door and his true identity but when he went to do so he found that the words died on his lips. He looked away. He couldn't tell Nick that Adam was next door. He didn't know how he'd react and as much as he wanted to be realistic he didn't want to upset him anymore than he had to.

Nick mistook John's hesitation as sadness for Fred. He gave a smile designed only to comfort John.

"Um, he might…not heal straight away," John eventually said.

"He'll heal though."

Where Nick's new-found optimism had come from he didn't know but John wasn't going to stop him from having a little hope no matter how misplaced. If he didn't know any better he would have swore that Nick was only being optimistic so someone would contradict him. He supposed it was his way of indirectly asking what was going on with his fellow companions yet why he couldn't come right out and ask was beyond him.

John stifled a yawn; the lack of sleep and events of that day had exhausted him both physically and especially mentally. All he wanted to do now was crawl into bed, wrap himself into the covers and fall away into a blissful slumber land where he could live under the pretence that everything was fine.

"Um, I don't want to be rude or anything, "John started, interrupting Nick for the second time. He deliberately yawned this time, ensuring that Nick knew what he was getting at before he actually said it. "I'd like to get some sleep."

Nick nodded in comprehension but made no move to leave the cubicle. John cocked an eyebrow, wordlessly asking why he wasn't leaving.

"You say Fred is on life support?"

John paused, considering his answer. "Yes."

"Are we going to stay in a hotel or something because we can't leave him here."

"I suppose," John agreed. 

He hadn't thought about what they would do after they got out of the hospital due to the fact that it seemed such a long time away. If he were to be honest he would admit that he didn't feel up to leaving the hospital as of yet but the burning desire to leave far overpowered his weakness.

Nick smiled wistfully. "I want to go home, but I'll wait for Fred."

Again they lapsed into silence. Once again he considered telling Nick about Adam but found he didn't have the strength. The last thing he needed was more hassles.

"I'll come see you in the morning."

He hopped off the bed; barely able to stay upright when he landed. He waved goodbye to John and slowly made his way outside.

John allowed himself a sigh of relief before slowly tugging himself into bed, not noticing the now greatly fluctuating beeps from the heart monitor next door.

&******************************************************************************************&

Even though his eyelids felt like dead weights and his body felt completely warn and exhausted, John couldn't get to sleep. Usually he tossed and turned when this happened to him (recently it was happening most frequently) but he didn't even have the energy to perform that simple task. Instead he remained still and lifeless, listening to the muffled noises of the other inhabitants of that ward. He had no idea what time it was exactly since he lost his watch to Fred. In all honestly he hadn't truly known the time since he woke up in the hospital. It was impossible to determine whether it was night or day in the windowless hospital and every clock he had seen so far on his travels had always been contradicted later by another one that was either hours behind or ahead of the previous one. In the end he decided that time was something he'd rather not know mostly because he didn't have much of a choice in the matter rather than he didn't care. Fred still held onto the watch he had bestowed upon him. Removing the watch now would be like breaking his side of the promise. If Fred was still holding on, the watch was still his.

He busied himself with these noises for what seemed like hours, wishing them to lull him into a nice and fitful sleep. They refused to do so and now he was on the verge of insanity.

He tried counting the amounts of dots on the wall. That lasted only a matter of time before he had actually counted them. After the dots came sheep however the sheep reminded him too much of Farmsville next door to his beloved hometown and that was something, as pleasant as it was, he didn't want to think about. Every memory he had of Townsville was linked with Fred, and every thought of Fred was linked with the life support machine, hopelessness, and a graveyard.

He couldn't run from his thoughts forever and in the end he relented, mulling very reluctantly over the torturous events of a very long day.

The first problem was that of Fred and how, or if, he would ever recover depending on the reply to that document. As Nick had suggested they would have to find accommodation in the city. That in itself wouldn't be a problem. Paying for it would. They had only bought a limited supply of money for the trip and none of the students were particularly wealthy. They were, after all, students and most money they had was loaned from Townsville bank and tied up in their studies. Fred could be in the hospital for God knows how long and he would need permanent care if the poisonous chemical x weren't flushed from his system. 

Another strange thing that had come to him since Adam had first slammed the virus into his friend was the endurance Fred had shown. They had walked in the desert without water for days after he had been poisoned. Chemical x however was absolutely lethal and technically should have killed him on the spot. There was no way Adam, whose heart monitor could faintly be heard through his thoughts, could have diluted it as he wouldn't waste any precious water on them and he wanted, definitely wanted, Fred dead or at least hurting a lot.

Mission accomplished.

The second problem was when, and he would, tell Nick about Adam. If Adam survived then he would undoubtedly go back to Townsville but if he died…

Either way Nick would need to know about Adam. He would have to know that someone who was after the meteorite piece attacked him. How anyone knew they even had it was beyond him. Intentionally attacked? They couldn't have attacked him for the meteorite could they? How could any one possibly know that they had discovered it? They would have to be able to see them any time, any place, anywhere whenever they wanted to. That of course was ridiculous. No one could see everything unless you were God or…

He would have to be told that the man who left them for dead was currently fighting for his life next door. 

The only question was when to tell him.

John didn't know which he'd prefer, Adam alive or Adam dead. He didn't wish anything bad on anyone but Adam's death may be a lot less stressful for the rest of them.

No.

He couldn't wish Adam something like that, even after what he did. It was wrong, it was inhuman, it was sick.

John felt as if the world was crashing down on top of him and no amount of thought or preparation could save him. As the sleep he so desired gently crept in to claim him, he decided that tomorrow would sort everything out and to just retreat into the safety of his mind. The document dropped to the floor, untouched.

He had no idea then how wrong he would be.

&*******************************************************************************************&

Everything that could go wrong was about to go wrong.

His fitful sleep was rudely interrupted by a great commotion coming from somewhere else in the hospital. He turned his head, burying it into the pillow in an attempt to drown out the irritating noise. He had yet to fully awaken from his peaceful slumber but the shouting, screaming and incessant high pitched scream of some machine flat lining was pulling him back to a world of consciousness he was just too reluctant to go back to. Eventually though the voices won out and he groggily opened his eyes.

Nick was standing next to his bed.

__

Is it morning already? he asked himself as he steadily arose from the bed. The headache had dimmed down to a small throbbing now, a vast improvement since yesterday. He felt a lot better in himself physically but this was dampened by the realisation that his problems were still very much apparent.

He ran a hand through his hair to comb it down a little. He looked at Nick who was dressed in his usual leather trousers and shirt, a welcomed change from the mundane desert clothing, an aspect of normality. What wasn't normal though was the expression he wore: a distant, shocked sadness.

Then the annoying sounds of the hospital filtered into separate, decipherable noises.

There was the usual banter from the other patients and doctors but it was much more panicked and louder than usual. It sounded like the doctors were rushing about the place, screaming at each other as they ran from one spot to the next. The most dominant noise though was not from the clear cries of the doctors demanding the resuscitator but from the piercing scream of a machine.

Next door.

"John, there's something I have to tell you," Nick said not even bothering to look him in the eye. Instead he kept a firm gaze on the curtain as if it were transparent. Tears were dripping steadily from his eyes and he wore a very pained expression. 

Adam.

He knew.

John groggily flung himself from the bed. He pushed past a startled and sad Nick who tried to grab his attention and ripped open the curtain. He was almost run over by a swarm of doctors all of them cramming themselves into the next cubicle.

"Adam," John whispered.

They were everywhere, practically piled on top of each other in an attempt to reach the patient. The heart monitor was continuing its funeral march, proclaiming to the ward that another patient was about to be lost.

John stood in the fray, dumbstruck, heart pounding in dread and fear. The doctors continued to barge past him, each one falling into any available spot they could find.

The wailing continued.

"Ok give me some room, here," one doctor demanded. The group jumped back into the corridor. Now John could see Adam. His face was pale, almost serene. His chest bare as one doctor furiously applied the electric charge to his body. His body jumped. The heart monitor remained the same.

"Okay, again!"

John continued to watch. This battle was out of his hands. It was out of Adam's hands. It was out of the doctors' hands now.

They tried again. They failed.

"One more time!"

The fear and realisation was swelling, bulging, exploding from inside him as he watched the battle to save a fallen life. Watch. That was all he could do.

Watch as the doctors tried again and again to bring back the fallen body.

Watch, not help, as every attempt failed.

Watch as Adam's life slipped away.

Watch as Fred went the same way.

"One more time!"

He was helpless. He couldn't assist him.

"Adam!" He cried. 

"It's not working!"

No, this wasn't happening. Adam had to survive. He had to.

"We're losing him!"

__

Adam clenched his fists. He made a simple promise that the tone of his voice told that he would die before he let that dream slip away.

"I'll show them."

They were losing him. The doctors were failing. "ADAM!"

"Please sir, stand back!" One doctor cried as he prised him away. John fought back, continuing to scream Adam's name as he pulled against the doctor. His weakness let him down and the doctor was winning.

"ADAM!"

"Please sir!"

He stopped crying. If only he could silence that machine as if he cried loud enough Adam would come back to them. Adam was a victim of this life, a product of neglect. He could have such a bright future. He was denied the luxury of friends, family and more importantly, love.

It wasn't his fault.

The machine continued to scream. John shook his head, trying in vain to ignore the tolling bell.

Adam…

__

"I want to be a scientist,"

John's heart froze in his chest. His body became numb. He felt like he was miles away from the scene, unable to help. Adam was walking away into the darkness.

"No…"

__

"I'll be recognised world over. People will love me for my discoveries. I'll win the Nobel peace prize!"

Then the fray became deathly still. They stood, exchanging gazes.

They stepped back from the bed. 

"_I promised myself that I would achieve something that he couldn't and science was my best bet. I'll show them all who's the better sibling,"_

One doctor stopped in front of John. She stopped, smiling weakly. "We tried."

The high pitched scream was cut short. They turned off the machine.

__

"I'll be loved."

John collapsed to floor, unable to believe what he had just seen. He watched in shocked desperation as they pulled the cover over Adam's face. They closed the curtain.

Adam had tried to take their lives in order to keep the meteorite. Who would have thought that fateful irony would claim his before any one else.

Then John whispered a few sentimental words, his farewell to the man no one understood.

"We forgive you."

And John meant it, every little word.

&**************************************************************************************&

Nick hadn't moved from his spot which made getting John back into his bed more than a little difficult. Nick's head was buried in his hands, his body weakly trembling. Doris had tried to snap him out of it but with no success at all.

John remained silent. It had been so quick, so rushed. He knew Adam was weak but he wasn't expecting this. It had happened so quickly. Like that. A flash. Now he had to deal with Nick and at the current moment in time he wasn't sure that he could. He was holding himself together with a thin thread that knew would unravel if subject to any more emotional turmoil.

They sat in a thick, impenetrable silence. Nick was staring blankly at the curtain; John was staring blankly at him. The heavy depression of that morning's events hung palpably in the air, ten times more virulent than the depression of the desert when the prospect of death was a only a likely option rather than facing the blunt fact that one of them was gone forever. Adam had left them to go into another world but not before he brandished his name in the memories of those teenagers he left behind.

John had little time to dwell on the reason why Nick had been in his cubicle as his mind was a twisted maze of tangled questions that clouded his usually penetrative perception and replaced it with an inaccurate and fragile grip on reality. Never the less the thought eventually broke free from the shackles of his thoughts long enough to get his attention. He wondered momentarily if he should even bring it up at all as it was hardly appropriate.

The atmosphere was becoming increasingly uncomfortable between the two. One of them would eventually break but who was going to be the one to do so was another matter and both were reluctant to attempt it.

John was determined that he wasn't going to be the one to speak first. Nick was either angry, sad, or perhaps an oscillating mixture of the two and John knew that he couldn't explain himself to his friend simply because he felt he had nothing to explain.

It was like a tactical game of chess. John knew that choosing silence over words would be a much more powerful technique.

As expected, Nick spoke first. "You knew that Adam was here, didn't you?"

Nick was sat at the end of the bed, back turned to his friend whereas John was lying down and staring blindly at the opposite end. Although John couldn't see any noticeable change in Nick, he could definitely sense it.

So, it began.

"Yes."

Honesty was the path John must follow for lying to Nick would not achieve anything now.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

John shrugged even if Nick couldn't see it. "Didn't know how you'd react. I was worried…"

Nick cut him off. "I guess you're wondering why I was here earlier than planned."

John crossed his arms as he tried desperately to rid himself of the echoing cry of the heart monitors last stint. The thought of Fred going through that made him shake in fear.

"The thought had crossed my mind."

It wasn't a usual trait of Nick's to be so malicious and cold even in the wildest extremes of his mercurial temperament but these were hardly ordinary circumstances that they were in. However Nick was, in essence, one of the gentlest people John knew and somehow anger didn't suit him. His steel edged tone spoke of an unreleased anger but it seemed rather hollow and misplaced in his words.

Nick didn't move a muscle as he gently stated, "I went to see Fred."

Things were about to get worse.

Like Doris earlier there was some unspoken implication that hung from that statement that John didn't like one bit.

"Oh?"

The discomfort was amplified when Nick, who was now shuddering weakly, didn't answer to John's prompt. John continued to frantically entwine his fingers around each other as he fought against the building feeling of his well-known enemy; fear. 

"Nick?"

Nick raised his head. Tears were spilling freely from his eyes. "He's… gone."

The words struck John like a thousand poisoned blades, each one piercing on a level that would never heal.

"He's…" 

John faltered that heartless shriek of the heart monitor echoing throughout his mind. After all they had been through, after the lengths they had gone to save him, all of that was in vain? A pointless attempt to save a fading friend from fate? All of those happy times they had. All the scraped they had both got in and out of. All of it, everything, it was…over?

Erased by the cruel hand of death.

Over…

No one was with him when he died.

"I think you misunderstood me John," Nick said as he fiercely twisted a paper towel until it tore. "It isn't a euphemism."

John blinked away the tears that had built up in the short period where he had mourned for his friend. As he spoke his voice was punctuated with barely restrained sobs. 

"You mean, he's not dead?"

John looked up hopefully, wanting, no, needing to hear that his friend was alive and well. 

"Worse."

What could be considered worse than death, John didn't know. "Worse?" he asked just to make sure he had heard correctly.

"I meant it literally," he turned his head slightly, tears sparkling in his eyes also. "He's gone. The doctors went to check up on him this morning to find his bed was empty but it gets even worse."

John honestly didn't know how this situation could get much worse but he knew from his experience so far on this vexed mission that he was about to find out.

Nick didn't disappoint.

"They found a huge circle in the wall that led outside. The strange thing was that it was a perfect circle. The debris was found on the outside, so someone broke out rather than in. They speculate that it must have been dynamite but there's no way it could be formed that perfectly and not be heard."

John froze when he realised what Nick was hinting at. "Are you saying…"he paused, finding the words strangely foreign, " that Fred did it?"

Nick didn't say a thing. 

"He couldn't have done it, Nick. He was in intensive care for goodness sake. He was dying last night and in the small space of a few hours he suddenly completely healed, blew a perfect circle into the hospital wall without any explosives and escaped into the night. Are you saying that chemical x gave him super powers? That's absurd." John didn't realise how loud he had become until he reached the end of his sentence. He lowered his head and voice simultaneously. "I'm sorry Nick. This is all too weird for me."

"It doesn't change the fact that Fred is gone, John," he replied indignantly. 

Fred was out there, alone only hours after the doctors declared they were going to kill him.

It did didn't make any sense.

Nick stood up.

"I booked our flight back to Townsville. We have to get going in an hour. There's no reason for us to stay here anymore."

John leapt from his bed, landing a forceful hand on his friend's shoulder to stop him from leaving. Nick turned, not angered but saddened by the violent move made.

"We can't leave Fred here!" John challenging, adopting his "obey me or else" tone. "He could be in dying in the street. He could be injured, he, he could be…"

"Dead," Nick finished. He put a hand on top of John's kindly. "If Fred's gone anywhere it's back to Townsville. There is nothing for him here."

During previous battle and arguments Nick had folded out of fear of being argumentative but it was apparent that wasn't going to happen this time. John wasn't sure if it was because Nick valued home too much to allow it to slip away from him and the idea of being in Townsville was too much to resist. Nick wasn't the best negotiator therefore wasn't prepared to tangle with John over the subject for the risk of losing the fight. He had a point. John just hoped he was right, as for him there was no life in Townsville without Fred.

"What if he hasn't?" John asked softly as he watched the slide show of a few happy memories where the three of them were together, their laughter echoing hollowly in his mind.

"I want to go home!" Nick suddenly winged, losing all patience. He stabbed a pointed finger into his chest softly. "I've had it with this place. It has too many bad memories for us. It was a waste of time. One of us is dead, the other missing presumed dead and the other two will spend the rest of their life trying to mend the irreparable damage that was done here." Nick breathed deeply after his emotional outburst. Hit bottom lip wobbled with the effort of holding back the tears and his whole body was shaking. John offered a few kind reassurances but Nick pushed away from him.

"I want to get as far away from Adam as I can."

"Hey!" John cried, pointing warningly in his direction. "He's dead. Have a little respect."

Nick refused to listen. "Respect?" he scoffed. "Don't you remember that he left us in the desert to die and just because of some stupid yearning to be accepted?"

Both of them were becoming enraged at the other for reasons they didn't really know. Deep down inside they knew that they were only venting weeks worth of emotions and neither was taking the insults, as they weren't meant for them. It felt good to pour out some of that energy, to finally confide in someone and not worry of being shunned. It was like a mournful euphoria that they didn't want to deny themselves.

Outside of their private cubicle the muttering of the masses had been drawn to a temporary halt as they eavesdropped on theirs resulting in a stifling silence for all except the two men. The curtain trembled on more than a few occasions where presumably a mixture of patients and doctors who were listening were accidentally pushed against the fabric.

John couldn't care less. They could tape it, perhaps even join in for all he cared. It didn't matter to him.

"It wasn't his fault," John insisted, not really knowing why he was defending Adam after all he had done to them. It would have been easy to turn around and scorn him like Nick, but John couldn't find it within himself to do so. Tears of relief were cascading down both of their faces now as the realisation hit home.

Fred was missing.

Adam was dead, killed by someone who was after something specific.

They were going home.

"Adam was like a forest fire. You don't blame the fire for destroying the forest but the one who started it. His parents."

"But a fire doesn't have a conscience," Nick argued, gesticulating frantically to get his point across. "A fire doesn't have morals, it doesn't have a soul, a, a knowledge of what's right and what is wrong. Fire doesn't have free will. Adam did."

John shook his head. "You don't understand," he said softly. "Adam was intentionally attacked. Someone took the chemical x, the meteorite and left all his valuables. He was a victim too. Just like us."

Strangely Nick calmed. Suddenly the curtain was pulled open catching both of them off guard. Doris stood before them, offering evil glares to every patient and doctor who had listened into the argument. They proceeded to wilt at her gaze, before walking away, whistling no less in an attempt to look innocent. She gave them all another glare before pulling the curtain back across and dumping a large bag onto the bed.

"You two are quite the little entertainers aren't you? We should get you a T.V contract," she said dryly.

She gestured towards the things on the bed. "These are yours."

"They're not all mine," John argued. "There's way too much."

Doris pointed to the now reoccupied cubicle that once belonged to Adam. "Some of it was what's his names. We thought you should have it."

She pushed the bag towards them. Nick and John exchanged uncertain glances.

"Why?" Nick asked. "There's nothing you could possibly offer us from there."

Doris smirked. "Well it's yours anyway. All of those water containers."

"Well I don't think we'll need…" John screeched to a halt. "Water containers?"

"This." She plunged into the bag, fishing around for the item. She gave a little "ah!" when she found it and she withdrew them.

John couldn't believe his eyes, ears or any other sense in his body. The chemical x that they had found such a long time ago was back in their possession. It glittered in the synthetic light, untarnished by their earlier scientific administrations. 

The string of four water containers, each one with a faint 'x' carved on the metal lid was pushed towards them. "Want them?"

John and Nick stared on, chins practically reaching the floor in amazement. John wanted so much to reach out and touch them but feared they would vaporise at his touch so he hung back, arms twitching as he restrained himself.

"Chemical x," he breathed in complete awe. He snapped out of it. "I thought that other person stole it."

"He must have taken the one on his belt," Nick offered grudgingly. "Do you remember? Adam had one on his belt and the others were in the backpack. He took it out to fill up the needle remember. They must have grabbed the meteorite and took off as he must have been holding the meteor at the time."

"You mean the attacker took only one bottle of the chemical x because he thought that was all we had."

"Right," Nick agreed.

This time he couldn't restrain himself and he lent towards the containers. He held his breath, only allowing himself to breathe after his fingers fell on the cool surface.

Nick looked down at his wristwatch and gasped. "It's time to go."

"Can't say it was nice having you here," Doris said before disappearing without a second glance. After a few seconds of awkward silence Nick said, "Come on, John. Let's go home."

&********************************************************************************************&

John didn't really register anything on the plane journey back home. He vaguely remembered the hostesses ushering him onto the plane and getting very angry with him when he refused to comply, and he faintly remembered Nick's constant, unbearable silence every time John pulled out one of the containers of chemical x. 

He was out of it completely, too caught up in his own personal thoughts to be concerned about the events in the outer world. On two occasions it had almost cost him his life as he had walked straight in front of moving traffic and if it hadn't been for Nick's intervention he would have joined Adam in the realm of the dead. 

He remained silent and stony even as the plane took to the star studded sky. He took one last moment to stare at the land he never wished to see again. However he wasn't met with a feeling of relief as he expected but with an unconscionable sorrow. Fred might be still down there, alone, dying, waiting for help. John couldn't help but think that he should have stayed behind just in case but that was completely impractical. He couldn't afford to stay in the hotel with his wages already depleted and 

even if he did Fred would have no idea where to look for him and visa versa. As much as he hated to admit it, Townsville was the best bet of finding Fred again.

Some external force whispered something to him. Fred would be the one to find him, not the other way round.

He wondered if he would ever see him again.

He didn't inform Nick of his feelings though. They had both lapsed into a beautiful silence to dwell on their own personal, private thoughts. 

They only exchanged the minimal amount needed during the flight.

The next thing he knew he was rushing through Townsville airport trying to catch his bags, and then he was outside, standing beside Nick as they waited for the taxi to take them home to the university grounds.

The night was incredibly chilly although anything below 30 degrees was considered chilly to him. It didn't help that it was early winter either as the freezing night air made both of their teeth chatter. The rustling of the trees, the darkness of tarmac and the hustle and bustle was a welcomed change.

They hadn't seen Fred at the airport.

They hadn't seen Fred period.

John dived into his backpack to grab another complimentary peanut from the hidden stash in his backpack when his fingers brushed against something foreign all together. It was a book. He halted in his actions, took off the backpack and opened it up on the pavement getting a few odd looks from others.

"What on earth are you doing?" Nick asked absently as he gestured futilely at another taxi that, just like the others, completely ignored him.

"Looking for something."

His fingers once again came onto rest on the small book. He yanked it out. It was a tiny address book with a broken lock hanging loosely at the sides. The red covers had been tarnished and drawn upon with a heavy black liner in indecipherable scribbles. 

Adam's address book.

Nick looked up to wait for another taxi, his breath turning into little clouds as he exhaled. 

"I guess it's over for now. Well, until next month."

"Next month?" John asked, studying the booklet carefully. 

"Exams," Nick said. "Fred will be back before then. You know how much he wanted to graduate. He wouldn't miss it for the world."

Somehow John knew that wasn't going to be the case.

A weak reassurance but a reassurance none the less.

The lock released with a satisfying click. John opened the book, still crouched on the ground as he flicked through the pages.

They were blank.

"Creepy, but not surprising," Nick mused as he caught a glimpse of the diary. "He must have been hoping to fill it up."

John leafed through every single page, stopping abruptly at the letter M. He turned the book away from Nick before making his way back to the letter D and then U.

"We're in here," John told him, his heart feeling a little warmer towards Adam. "Look," he said, thrusting it into Nick's face. "You, Fred, Me, he put our numbers in here."

"How did he get our numbers?" Nick asked but was promptly ignored.

John looked down more closely at each entry. A faint pencil mark was next to each one. 

"Don't you get it, Nick?" He asked sadly. "Adam considered us his friends. He even put the date he got our numbers next to them. Look, that's before the expedition."

"I get it," Nick said. "So it was that meteorites fault after all.

John sighed with exasperation. "In a way, yes."

"Look under S," Nick commanded.

John quickly obeyed and flicked his way to the specified letter. There was one entry there but it came complete with an address. 

Harold smith.

Nick nodded a little sadly. "I guess he'll want to know what happened."

"That's right next to the Johnson's house," he told him, pointing at the barely intelligible scribbles.

John stood up, burying the address book into the deep lining off his coat pocket. He glanced at Nick who was now running his hands over his arms in an attempt to heat up.

"Oh, I could really use a desert right now."

John cringed.

A noisy and very rusted taxi came to a stop in front of them. "Ours." Nick stated. He motioned to get into the taxi but was prevented by John.

"What are you doing?" he asked when he refused to budge. 

With absolute resolve John entered the taxi first and a confused Nick followed close behind. He leant forward to the driver and whispered an unheard address to him before sinking back into the lining.

"You are so predictable," Nick whispered, folding his arms over his chest. "He's taking us to Harold's house isn't he?"

John grinned sheepishly and began nervously scratching the back of his neck. "You said someone had to tell him."

"Rather you than me," Nick said, indicating he wanted nothing more to do with this. John wasn't angry, if anything he was expecting it. Nick had come a long way considering how much he detested Adam at one stage and was surprised at how mellow he was being about the whole situation. 

"I'll walk to the university after I'm done," John said. "I need the exercise."

&******************************************************************************************&

It had taken about an hour for them to reach Harold's house, twenty minutes longer than it should. Traffic had been terrible that day. 

The taxi came to a squeaky halt outside of the house. It looked completely ordinary, mundane, like every other house he supposed. Children's toys were littered all over the front lawn and they glistened in the weak moonlight.

John took a deep breath. He reached for the door.

"John…"

He turned just as he was about to exit the taxi. Nick stared back, a worried expression on his face.

"Tell him," he paused, searching for the right words. "Tell him… I'm sorry."

John smiled thankfully. He gave a quick congratulatory pat to Nick before slamming the door closed.

He watched it disappearing, waiting until the taxi was long gone before he even considered walking towards the front door. Of all the challenges he had to face so far, he believed this one was definitely up the top. He cursed himself for being so sentimental, so caring. A policeman should do this, not him. He wasn't trained.

He took one step up the winding path that led to the door. It was strange and unique as it didn't cut straight to the door but instead meandered. The only possible purpose for such a path was to perhaps travel past an assortment of floral arrangements but as he travelled along the path he found that there were no flowers anywhere along the path. Perhaps they had died, unable to grow in the infertile soil that was their garden.

He reached the door.

He knocked.

At first there was no response from inside. The light was inside was spilling out onto the lawn so he knew that they were in. He could hear the faint rumble of a T.V.

Privately, John Utonium swore that he had to be nice to this Harold Smith, no matter what. They were, after all, going to become neighbours and he felt Harold would need a little support when he discovered that his brother had died. He made it a private vow as he stood, chest puffed out in an attempt to appear hence feel brave that he would give Harold Smith every benefit of the doubt until he was proved otherwise. Just because Adam went insane didn't mean to say that Harold would too and until he proved John wrong he would be as kind and polite as any friendly neighbour.

He would keep that promise until Harold smith proved himself a danger.

He knocked again, his resolve melting away as each second passed.

"Harold! There's someone at the door!"

"Can't you get it Mary Anne, honey? I'm watching the television."

"You can watch your little cops and robbers show later Harold_ after you answer the door! _" John visibly cringed at the commanding tones in that woman's voice. After a few hesitant seconds the male replied. "Alright."

Seconds later the door was cracked open. John smiled weakly at the glassed coated eyeballs that glared at him.

"What do you want?" he demanded through the miniature crack.

"Um, hi," John looked into the sky looking for some sort of inspiration. What could he say?

"Uh, Hi, I'm John Utonium, I'm a student at Townsville University…"

"Your point is?" The man prompted.

John faltered. He seemed a lot shyer than Adam and from the small portion that he could see of him they looked completely different. Harold Smith, from what he could tell was quite a bald man with a few odd wisps of brown hair swept over the top instead of the luxurious blond bangles that Adam owned. He wore thick spectacles with tiny black dots as eyes. The fact that he hid behind the door and was so suspicious about strangers approaching him spoke volumes about his personality. He appeared weak and rather scrawny compared to the muscular frame of his younger brother. John even looked at the address book again just to make sure he had the right house. They were two completely different people. How could anyone compare them?

"Can I come inside?"

The eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

John sighed. "I have some news that you really need to be sitting down to hear."

The door closed on him. He heard the sound of a fumbled attempt to unlock the key chain. The door reopened.

Now John got a closer look at Harold. He was as scrawny as he had thought and was adorned in a rather boring shirt, tie and trousers. He watched John like a hawk as they walked into the living room almost as if he was expecting him to pull out a gun and attack him. He was relieved, momentarily, to find a nice armchair that he could sink into. However, the ceaseless, piercing gaze of Harold Smith stuck to him like glue.

Despite the uncomfortable setting he had willingly thrown himself into, John couldn't help but think of Fred. The living room, like the lawn was completely coated with small children's toys, many of them designed for boys in a very dangerous fashion. Pins, Fire trucks and army men stuck out of every available crevice and he almost screeched when he narrowly avoided landing on a much spikier plaything.

The woman he heard from earlier suddenly trotted into the room. She was adorned in a simple yellow dress that was being put under strain by the bulging pregnancy and, unlike her fiancé a warm and welcoming smile. John was glad that some one in the house had the ability to smile. She sat herself on the sofa next to him whereas Harold sat on an individual armchair now lost in front of a shoot out (whether fictional he couldn't tell) on the television.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, beaming a dazzling smile at him. John merely smiled; glad that she was engaged and therefore wouldn't resort to his prize winning and critically acclaimed chat up line of the repetition of the word "I".

"I haven't seen you before," she turned to Harold who was smiling as one police car exploded on the screen. "_Harold!_"

"What!"

"Who is this guest?"

"I dunno."

He turned back to the T.V. screen. 

John sighed inwardly. This was not going as planned. He stopped one critical comment from the woman, as he didn't want to be caught in a full-scale argument between the couple.

"My name is John Utonium, Miss…"

She smiled brightly. "Please call me Mary Anne. I hope you don't think me rude but why are you here?"

John purposely ignored the euphoric "yay" from Harold when a string of policeman were shot and answered the question. "I'm afraid I have some bad news about Adam Smith."

"Who?" Harold asked absently and John was sickened. 

"Adam Smith?" He prompted, scowling slightly. "Scientist. Goes to university?" No response. "Your brother?" 

Harold blinked. "Oh, erm I think you got the wrong house."

"Harold!" Mary Anne scolded. "Adam is your younger brother, remember dear?"

He waved his hand into the air to show that this was irrelevant. "Yeah, yeah what about, um…"

"Adam."

"Yeah him."

John looked away. He wondered if Harold knew about Adam's deep psychological problems and, more importantly, if they even cared. Adam's whole universe rotated on Harold, his hatred for his elder brother but little did Adam know that it wasn't the same for him. Harold didn't even know Adam existed, like he was just some statistic, a disposable person who inconvenienced him by being in his life.

John took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that Adam met with an accident during the journey." He paused to check if Harold was still listening. He was but John believed it was more out of curiosity than out of care. "Well," he started again. " I'm afraid he didn't make it through. He…died a few days ago. I'm very sorry."

The TV volume rocketed as another explosion occurred. "Sorry," Harold apologised. "I missed that last part."

"Your younger brother is dead!" John yelled, bolting upright from the sofa. He expected some sort of reaction but didn't get one from either.

Mary Anne approached him, that smile still present on her face. "Thank you for coming to tell us. It was very kind of you." She glared at Harold disapprovingly. 

Now he didn't care what was going on. He just wanted to escape and he wanted to escape now.

"I'd better be going. You have my condolences." He bowed in respect.

Mary Anne smiled. "I recognise you from the real estate agency. I'll put a good word in for you for the house next door maybe then we could have tea?"

John smiled weakly, the best he could muster.

"Thank you."

He left the house. 

&****************************************************************************************&

John didn't have the energy to walk back to the university and unfortunately he didn't have the money to grab a taxi. He considered going back to Harold's home and asking if perhaps he could use the phone but found that he didn't want to be around them anymore. In many ways Harold was as deep into insanity as Adam and, due to this connection, John determined that Harold would just be a little lonely and, like Adam just needed a friend or two to get him back to normal.

Again he reminded himself of his promise; to treat Harold Smith like a brother, to pretend everything was fine and dandy in order to convince Harold the same applied to him. The disturbing meeting in the house had shook the foundations of his promise just minutes after its birth. However he would diligently guard this promise until the very end and, again, until he was proved wrong. He may have been too late to save Adam, but perhaps there was still hope left for Harold.

Years later, he would be proved horribly wrong.

With out any money or energy John wondered over to the old Johnson's house, the relatively small three bed roomed house that he had put a bid in for. He silently walked into the back garden and collapsed underneath the blossom tree that was showering petals down upon the green coloured earth.

There he stared once again into the stars, pondering the events as he had done so many times before. Only this time he was truly alone. There would be no doctors barging in to take a blood sample, or no Nick telling him to wake up to start the next stint of the journey…

No Fred to laugh and joke with…

He buried his head into his hands, nestling them together to encourage a little warmth.

Fred.

It had all happened so quickly. Adam's death, Fred's disappearance, coming back home. All of it had happened within the space of 24 hours. It had flashed by so quickly, confusing the scientist.

He didn't know what happened at that hospital, how a person on life support could suddenly get up, walk away, blow a hole in the wall and disappear into the night. Fred would never abandon his friends either. John knew he wouldn't. It wasn't in his nature.

And Adam's murderer had intentionally attacked Adam to get the chemical x. What was this lobster creature that was seen at the crime scene, and did they deliberately attack Adam just to get the chemical x, and if so why did they leave 80% of it behind? Nick had suggested that perhaps they thought they had it all, which was the most feasible explanation. John couldn't imagine why they would attack Adam to get the chemical x and then leave the majority behind. That was just idiotic.

It was strange to think that somewhere in the world, Fred was out there. What he was doing, John didn't know but if he knew Fred, and he was sure that he did, it would be for a good cause. John didn't know when he would see Fred again, if ever, and this thought saddened him to braking point. But he knew, somehow, that Fred was alive. He had to be.

They had made a promise. As long as he had the watch, Fred was alive.

Silently he dug out on container of chemical x, staring at it evenly underneath the night sky. Had this simple substance caused Adam to break? Had it caused Fred's disappearance? Was this truly the cause of all their woes these past few weeks?

John pulled his legs to his chest and rested his head on his knees, staring at the rolling green field.

They had all come so far. 

To think that a couple of weeks ago he was laughing and joking with Fred and Nick. They were happy, ignorant, blissfully happy…

He bit back the urge to cry once again and raised the container of chemical x into the stars from where it came. He wasn't the only one with the strange liquid though, and as he swirled the liquid around in the container he found himself wondering what the other person was doing with their share of the chemical x and why they thought it was important enough to kill for.

He had no idea what power that strange liquid held.

He couldn't throw it away but he was determined not to profit from it. He could not afford to draw attention to the chemical lest he draw the attention of the murderer and then he and Nick would go the same way as Adam. He made a silent promise to himself that he would buy the old Johnson house as Fred would then know where he lived. He would build that laboratory in the basement no matter what and he would store the chemical x in the darkness of that basement for when fate decided to call upon it again.

&********************************************************************************************&

The End

There is a sequel in the pipeline to this just in case your wondering why some things are left unexplained. Um, please R&R, as I'd really like to know whether you're interested in a sequel and what you thought of this one.

Thanks for reading!

Love,

The Ice Princess


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